Song of the Gentle Wind
by Simply Kim
Summary: (A WeiB and Schwarz "What if?" fic)Conservatorio de San Marco... a place where a group of people found themselves... A place where they learned of their true value... a place where they laughed, cried, developed... and most of all... LOVED.
1. Prologue: Cherry Blossoms

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Prologue BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
PROLOGUE : Cherry Blossoms  
  
  
  
"Oi! Kenken!"  
  
A chocolate-haired boy turned after hearing the sound of his name being called. He grinned when he saw who it was, his eyes dancing mischievously, running a hand through his hair, as he waited for the other to catch up.  
  
"Eh? What's the matter now, Yo-tan?" He asked, steadying the swaying blond.  
  
"Itai. that was some dash. you're real fast Ken. good thing that I'm not your opponent in your whatchamacallit game!"  
  
Ken slapped the other boy playfully on the head. "It's called "Soccer", stupid!" He admonished, shaking his head at the other's ignorance of anything related to sports. "And Youji, I do not walk fast - you're just too slow! What you need is proper exercise!"  
  
"Exercise?" Youji gave Ken a confused look. "But I get exercise - every night!"  
  
A vein popped on Ken's forehead. "Baka!" he yelled, loud and forceful enough for Youji's hair to stand on end. "That is not exercise! That is called SEX! That can't possibly be a form of exercise, because the only thing you develop in there are your. your."  
  
"My impressive length." Youji said, a-matter-of-factly, giving Ken an amused grin. "Don't be so worked up about it Ken. really, you should get laid. it's much fun than playing soccer, you know!"  
  
"Youji. teme."  
  
"Ohayo Youji-kun, Ken-kun!"  
  
The warring pair turned and waved as they spotted a happily-skipping boy dragging cradling a white kitten in one arm and holding an opened pack of Pocky on the other.  
  
"Oi, Omittchi!" Youji greeted, patting the boy on the back upon reaching them. "What brought you here? I thought you have a class at this hour?"  
  
The normally smiling boy gave the elder man a dark look upon hearing the much-detested nickname christened by him. It quickly disappeared as he remembered what he came to tell the other two.  
  
"Ah, the class was dissolved. drat Mr. Myers!" He sighed, a small smile still on his lips. "I have some news, guys!"  
  
"Oh yeah? Is it good or bad?" Ken asked, ruffling the boy's already- messed blond hair.  
  
"It's good!" The boy squealed. "Remember the empty room beside mine in our dorm?"  
  
"Yeah? What about it?"  
  
"Someone's gonna move in there!" He crowed, waving the pack of Pocky in the air, spilling some of its contents on the pavement. "Oops." He frowned a bit as he looked at the dusty treats littering the ground, then, he turned to the other two again, who was looking at him with interest evident in their eyes. "Isn't that great?"  
  
"Yeah." Ken conceded. "It's great! I mean. that room is the most lavish one right? So the one who would occupy it would definitely be loaded! Very interesting. I wonder how he looks like."  
  
"What is he like, you mean." Youji interjected. "The last person who occupied that room was so stuck-up that no one wanted to do anything with him." He sighed. "I hope this time, it would be different."  
  
"Yeah. that too." He turned to the smaller boy. "It was hard living next to guy ne, Omi."  
  
Omi's features sharpened. "Yeah. really hate the guy! He stole my laptop!"  
  
Ken sighed. He was very much envious of people like Omi. They had costly gadgets delivered almost every day. He's rich. and he only belonged in a middle class family, and was in the school because of a scholarship and financial support of his grandfather who was so fond of him even if they only met for a few times. People like Omi only cares for what they're going to spend their money on next, while he, on the other hand, works his butt off in a coffee shop in the university premises in order to gain more pocket money. His allowance is only enough for his basic needs.  
  
"Uh, earth to Kenken!"  
  
Ken snapped out of his reverie and looked at Youji's worried eyes. There was something in those eyes that he could not placate. something.  
  
He suddenly realized that he was staring, and he immediately looked down, his cheeks flushing and he fidgeted, trying to find something to say. probably an excuse for his untimely daydreaming. He looked up just in time to see a white kitten, partially being held by Omi, dangle on the fabric of Youji's scarf.  
  
"Hey! This is my best scarf!"  
  
Ken's lips tugged up in the faintest semblance of a relieved smile.  
  
"Hora, hora." Ken announced, clapping his hands twice. "Let's go, time's a-wasting, we must get to school fast!"  
  
Omi laughed, grabbing the kitten and tucking it safely in his arms, the pack of leftover Pocky warm in his coat pocket. "Yeah! Last to arrive at the gates of the main building would be treating for dinner!" He glanced at Youji who paled visibly and winked playfully at Ken. All three started running.  
  
"Matte! Matte yo!"  
  
* * *  
  
"Honestly, do you have to keep an eye on me around here? I mean, I'm already in college."  
  
"Young master!" A uniformed butler said, aghast. "I'm wounded! I am only thinking of your welfare. why do you not accept my help? Besides, You are only transferring schools, not entering for the first time! Back then, I was also keeping an eye on you and you -"  
  
"Never protested, yeah, I know." An auburn-haired boy with unusual lavender eyes sighed and slumped further down into the comforting leather of the black stretch Limousine. "I did not have the guts to. father is very much adamant about having someone check on me all the time. and Aya-chan wouldn't let me go out alone ever since I was almost." he sighed again, closing his eyes against the onslaught of painful memories.  
  
He stiffened as he felt a hand on his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating as it contained the panic that was threatening to burst forth, at the same time slapping it away. When he realized that it was only the butler, he released his pent-up breath and smiled apologetically.  
  
The butler only gave him an understanding smile and a brief nod before looking out the window. As soon as he did, his face lightened as he took in the scenery. "Ah, young master. such majestic place you will live in!"  
  
Curious, his charge turned his head and came face to face with the most awesome sight he had ever seen. well, after Castle Laheen, one of the states his father owned in Ireland. He rolled down the window and took in the sweet smell of autumn. He closed his eyes, wishing that his family were there with him.  
  
"If only." he murmured almost to himself, tears threatening to fall at the slightest movement. He struggled to maintain his composure, and was almost gratified when he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder for the second time.  
  
"Young master, we have arrived."  
  
He opened his weary eyes and gazed at the stone edifice that resembled a gigantic Japanese mansion. "Sakura." He read the golden script written in homeland's Kanji. "Cherry blossoms. beautiful." he murmured as the chauffeur opened the door for him. He dutifully stepped out and looked around before settling his sights on the golden script. Sakura. cherry blossoms. the blooms are the reminiscence of the past that contains the path to the future. I wonder. I wonder what the future will bring. now that I am finally here.  
  
He was woken up from his reverie by a soft, yet steely voice.  
  
"This is the Sakura Dormitory. Welcome and it would be a pleasure for you to stay with us until the day you graduate from the Conservatorio. This is a dorm offered only to Japanese students, and certain rules applying to the culture are implemented. You will be briefed later at eight in the evening."  
  
The boy nodded, his eyes still fixed at the script, his eyes unfathomable because he stood directly under the canopy of a Sakura tree. "I understand." He said quietly. Then, he turned his attention to a gentle, but insistent feeling of warm fur rubbing against his neck.  
  
He hunted for the source of warmth and found himself staring directly at the confused green eyes of a white kitten.  
  
"MEOW!" It greeted him, kitty face scrunched up to what the boy assumed as a welcoming smile.  
  
However, before he could say anything, a pale and frail hand grasped the animal by the neck. "There you are!" A boyish voice admonished. "You scared the hell outta me you cute kitty-cat!"  
  
"Omi-kun."  
  
The boy swore that the newcomer flinched. but then, he had no idea, since the boy was behind him.  
  
The red-haired woman who was his welcoming agent shook her head and gave a wry smile, glancing at the emotionless face of the new boarder. "I'm sorry for that. he would never repeat it again. am I right, Omi-kun?"  
  
"Uh, HAI!" The cat's owner said a bit too enthusiastically. "Gomen. it's just that I was looking for my kitten, and I was so frantic that I was overjoyed when I."  
  
He turned around, his eyes softening at the sight of the stammering blond boy before him. "It's alright." He cut him off, giving both the kitten and the owner a rueful smile. "I love animals. I have a whole army of cats at home. the young ones are a bit of work at times, but worth it. really worth it."  
  
The younger boy looked up at him, his mouth gaping open as he realized who had just started a conversation with him. "You love animals too? WAI! Sugoi!" He hopped up and down and around the redhead. "Finally, a kindred spirit!" He laughed happily. Then, just as suddenly as he laughed, a frown marred his brow. "Wait a minute. hold. do I KNOW you?"  
  
The taller boy's smile widened slightly, his eyes filled with amusement. "Maybe. but I sure as hell know you, Tsukiyono Omi."  
  
"How -"  
  
"You knocked the weight holding the bars off the greenhouse let my dog run wild in it chasing after your precious Persian. My mother was thoroughly horrified at the turnout."  
  
"That was YOU!" Omi laughed, recalling a disheveled redhead who finally caught up a golden retriever before it wreaked more havoc in the greenhouse. "Gomen! It was a mistake!"  
  
"What is past is past, we can never change that." His voice took on a melancholic edge, but then brightened as another recollection ensued inside his mind. "The look on my sister's face was well worth it - it was the first time I saw her smile after she recovered from the flu. For that, I'm eternally grateful." He smiled sadly.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Enough with the reunion ceremonies." The same amused voice that greeted him said almost automatically. "Let's get you tucked in."  
  
"You sound like you're talking to a baby!" Omi grinned teasingly. "You're getting old, Manx-san!"  
  
"Urusai!" She admonished, waving a paper fan in the air threateningly. Suddenly feeling self-conscious for her lack of control, she blushed and cleared her throat. "As I was saying."  
  
"Yes?" He smiled in amusement at seeing the sophisticated woman acting like a fifteen year old for just a fleeting moment.  
  
"Welcome to The Sakura Dormitory. and we all hope you would find this to be more than adequate as a second home."  
  
"I'm sure I will."  
  
"Then, that's it. We'll all see you in the Receiving Room at eight."  
  
"I will be there Manx-san."  
  
She smiled wryly.  
  
"Keep your promise, Fujimiya Ran"  
  
* * *  
  
"Oi, looky Crawford!"  
  
Bradley Crawford whirled around, staring at the direction his blockmate pointed at. He could not see that clearly, however, all he could make out was the pale outline of a tall person making way towards the Sakura Dormitories. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as the seeming apparition disappeared through the red iron gates under the tall vine- covered arch.  
  
"They've got a new lodger!"  
  
"Seems like it." He agreed, wondering what the person looked like. Actually, he had no idea whether the new resident was male or female. but all the same, there was an unusual aura surrounding the person, making him interested in knowing who it was. "My vision was a little blurred though."  
  
His companion laughed. "Well, that's because you're not wearing your glasses, silly!"  
  
He immediately blushed in mortification as he saw his glasses on the front pocket of his uniform's coat. "Oh."  
  
"Well, we gotta know who it is, coz the new guy looks so delectable."  
  
Crawford frowned at his companion's choice of words. He sounded like a cook examining anew piece of meat - or a sex maniac. Either way, the whole thing sounded bad.  
  
"We'd better go before some advocate of justice overhears you and decides to make you lose that tongue of yours." He murmured a bit darkly as he started walking towards the main conservatory building. He slipped on his glasses and put on his most professional look before going through the black wrought-iron gates. "C'mon, Schuldig!"  
  
"Aw, you're no fun!" Schuldig groaned, hurrying to catch up to his best friend. "Hey, wait up!"  
  
* * *  
  
~ TBC ~  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Well, how do you like it guys? ^_^ I do hope you would review, so that I would know what to write about next! ^_^  
  
Ja! ^_^ 


	2. Chapter 1: Lost

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: One BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 1: Lost  
  
  
  
He was lost.  
  
He hated to admit it.. but he was lost.  
  
Either emotionally or literally, he did not care..  
  
The glaring fact remained.  
  
He was lost.  
  
Sighing, Fujimiya Ran trudged along the grassy path towards who-knows- where.. as fast as his feet would carry him. No need for other people to know that he's off track.. must get there on his own without shredding one piece of his already faltering dignity..  
  
However, that was proving to be so hard to do since he had absolutely no idea where he was supposed to go. His brochure told him to go to the conservatory's auditorium located.. hmm.. two kilometers north from his dormitory. Maybe the brochure was wrong. Maybe the auditorium was located three kilometers from his dormitory instead of two. maybe the auditorium decided to take the day off and went to the Piazza de San Sebastian instead.. or maybe..  
  
Ran looked at his brochure, squinted, and visibly paled.  
  
Or maybe he was reading the map upside down.  
  
He smacked his forehead soundly, earning nervous looks from random students milling about, obviously wary of his actions.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
He jumped, letting out a short shriek of surprise as he heard a deep baritone voice out apparent concern behind him. He turned and frowned, a frown that completely deteriorated as he saw the almost scholarly features of the person who surprised him.  
  
"Oh.. umm.. hi." He squeaked. "Uh.. hi."  
  
Foot in mouth  
  
"Hi." The newcomer greeted him rather formally.  
  
Silence.  
  
Ran did not know what to do. He hated it when people get all silent.. well, more than he was silent, that is. He was not much of a talker.. and he knew that no one was even more of a silent guy than he is.. this person just proved him wrong.  
  
The silence was deafening, and he fidgeted, looking down at his polished black leather shoes.  
  
"You seemed to be having problems." The other guy finally voiced out his thoughts.  
  
He sighed, and looked up, encountering dark inquisitive eyes. "Yeah.." murmured softly, suddenly feeling so idiotic. "I was having problems with the.. umm.. map." He wiggled a thick, colorful, and glossy brochure in the air.  
  
The other guy's lips quirked in a semblance of an amused smile.  
  
"So that's why you're going in circles for the past thirty minutes." There was definitely mirth in his voice, contributing to the deepening pool of crimson on the lost boy's cheeks. "I saw you walking around here a while ago when I returned to my dorm, and now, I was out after half an hour and you're still walking around."  
  
"Uh.. I.. I read the map.. wrong." He hung his head in mortification, waiting for what he knew would be a condescendingly irritating bout of laughter. "I'm supposed to go to the auditorium."  
  
It did not ensue.  
  
What happened was that the other guy took the brochure from his sweating fingers, eyed the miniature map, looked around, and then turned to him, his eyes dancing with laughter.  
  
"You're new and you're lost."  
  
"Tell me something I don't already know." He retorted gloomily, looking up at the other's amused features. There was a twinge of something in his stomach as their gazes locked. He was suddenly curious of this man..  
  
"Oh, sorry about that." A gentle smile spread on the scholarly face, the flash of even white teeth warming up the entire place.. and, surprisingly, his heart. "I see your problem now. You're supposed to go south, not north towards the auditorium, since you're from Sakura."  
  
Ran's eyes widened. How did he know where -?  
  
"Ah, don't worry, I'm not stalking you, okay?" He grinned reassuringly, slightly tilting his head to the side. "I saw you moving in yesterday. I am from Xavier Hall, the dormitory near the main gates of the Conservatorium, and I happened to pass by here coming from the European dorms out there." He pointed to a towering hall that stood far away from them.  
  
"Oh.." That was all he could say as he took back the brochure that was taken from him earlier. "Oh."  
  
"Well, I guess my job here is done."  
  
He was suddenly lost again.. in more ways than one. "Oh.. I guess."  
  
Silence..  
  
"Nice to meet you." The other guy said, holding out a hand. /For shaking./ He thought as he stared at the extended limb, marveling slightly at how the fingers looked. They seemed so frail.. /Artist's hands../  
  
He saw a pale thing that was his hand reach out, placing itself on the inviting palm, his fingers wrapping around the offered comfort, gently gripping, softly touching.  
  
"Nice to meet you too."  
  
A sudden wave of disappointment washed over him as they broke contact.  
  
"Well, I guess I would see you sometime.. take care!" With a final wave, the guy walked towards the opposite direction.  
  
Ran sighed and ran a hand through his fiery red locks, his eyes following the slightly uptight form until he disappeared. Then, he turned towards the direction of the auditorium. Sighing again for the umpteenth time, he resumed his trudging, his mind full of what had happened a while ago.  
  
Suddenly, his eyes widened. He stopped in his tracks as a realization crashed on him.  
  
He spoke in English.  
  
His eyes wandered in wonder to where he last saw his savior.  
  
English.. He spoke in English and did not even realize it..  
  
Then, like a blow onto his head, he realized another thing.  
  
/I did not even know his name./  
  
* * *  
  
"Are you sure he doesn't bite?"  
  
Omi sighed exasperatedly, his eyes looking heavenward as if asking a miracle to get his companion out of his melodramatic mood. "Youji-kun, he's the new dorm mate, not a new dog!" He cried out, letting out his breath in a loud whoosh.  
  
"Are you sure? He looked -"  
  
"Youji-kun!"  
  
Ken laughed as he saw the fed-up look in the younger blonde's face. "Relax, Omi, he's curious about the new guy.."  
  
"Ah, thank you Ken, now I know you love me so much.."  
  
Ken blushed slightly at the off-hand comment. "I take it back, he's just acting like his own annoying self, so no need to get so worked up Omi- chan.."  
  
"Hey!" Youji protested, throwing a pillow at him. "And I thought you're on my side!"  
  
Ken deflected the object and stuck out his tongue at him. "Serves you right!" He crowed, throwing the cushion back at the taller blonde who was reclining against the comfortable mattress of Omi's bed.  
  
"No, seriously, Omi." Youji said as he sat up and caught the pillow with one practiced hand. He turned to the grinning younger boy, his eyes questioning, his demeanor that of a curiously ruffled cat. Without looking, he threw the nearest object he could grab at Ken's direction. "What's he like?" Youji saw the boy's face contort into one of horror as the object he had just thrown hit Ken squarely on the forehead.  
  
"ITAI!"  
  
Youji winced, settling his gaze on his sparring partner. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he realized that..  
  
He had thrown a fiberglass paperweight at Ken.  
  
Not only was it a hard glass paperweight..  
  
It was a humongous AND hard glass paperweight.  
  
"Ack! Ken!" He immediately got up from the bed and padded towards his fallen friend. "Ken! Speak to me! Don't die on me, man! Ken! Are you alright?" He fanned the swirly-eyed boy with one of the folders he snatched from God-knows-where frantically, trying to get him to speak, to know whether he was mortally wounded.  
  
Omi could not help but laugh at the act unfurling before him. There was no sound though.. no one but Omi seemed to be able to do it. Youji glared at him, making him laugh even more.  
  
He clutched at his aching stomach as he doubled up with laughter; tears streaming from his eyes and his slight frame nearly falling from his perch on one of the chairs sitting near the door of the connected bathroom.  
  
"Ken!"  
  
Silence.  
  
Youji was visibly panicking, shaking the brown-haired boy out of his paperweight-induced reverie.  
  
Silence.  
  
Suddenly..  
  
"Itai.." Ken keened, sitting up abruptly, shaking his dazed head as he did so.  
  
Youji jumped at the unexpected murmur that shredded through the heavy silence.  
  
"ACK! IT SPEAKS!" He yelped, taking a shocked step back from the brown and blue lump on the expensively carpeted floors.  
  
Omi could not take it anymore. The sound of his laughter finally emerging, making itself known to everyone in the room, startling both perpetrator and victim, who looked at him in a weird way.  
  
"Bwahahahaha!" Omi guffawed, still clutching his stomach, and finally losing his balance, falling on the floor with a loud thud. "You.. both of you.. Bwahahahaha!"  
  
Ken and Youji looked at each other in confusion. Both shrugged and was about to pull Omi from his breathless bout of mirth when..  
  
"Why am I on the floor?" Ken asked, scratching his head. He tried to remember what had happened. He was teasing Youji, then a pillow was thrown, and he threw it back.. after that, something glassy was hurtling towards him. It hit him on the forehead..  
  
A paperweight. He realized, his eyes straying towards the swiftly backing Youji.  
  
A hard paperweight..  
  
A humongous AND hard paperweight..  
  
Youji threw the humongous AND hard paperweight.  
  
"Youji.." He started. His voice was eerily calm. He stood up and brushed the lint off his school uniform, slowly.. slowly.. Then, he looked up.. and gave Youji the glare of death.  
  
"Y - Yeah?" The tall blonde stammered, his hand on the doorknob, twisting it until he felt the slight kick of the lock opening. /Just a little more then I can escape../ He thought frantically,  
  
"SHI-NE!" Ken cried out murderously, moving towards Youji's trembling frame.  
  
"Eeyagh!" The blonde cried out, yanking the door open, running away from Omi's room.  
  
Omi's laughter finally subsided after a few moments of silence - after the thundering sound of two pairs of clambering feet that echoed in the hallway. He shook his head, still smiling.  
  
/Those two../ He thought fondly, standing up and making a move to close the door. /They never cease to amaze me.. they're acting WAY childish than what is required of his age. Nevertheless, I love them better that way than any other./  
  
"What's with the laughter, Omi-kun?"  
  
Omi focused and cheered as he saw his best friend standing by the gaping door, an eyebrow raised as he took in the room's disheveled state. He whistled in wonder. "What storm desecrated your place?" He grinned teasingly.  
  
Omi laughed.. his face feeling a bit too hot for comfort. "A hurricane called Kudou Youji and a twister named Hidaka Ken. That's what hit my place - as usual!" He said a-matter-of-factly. "Not a good place for studying ne? Maybe we should just practice in yours, Nagi-chan.."  
  
Naoe Nagi grinned back happily, his face reddening slightly at the prospect of having Omi in his room. /This is going to be fun!/ He thought excitedly. "Okay. Come on!"  
  
And they both trooped out, with Nagi helping Omi lug his cello towards his own room. 


	3. Chapter 2: Three Aces and A Wildcard

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Two BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 1: Three Aces and A Wildcard  
  
"Ohayo Ran-kun!"  
  
Fujimiya Ran turned at the unexpected sound of a familiar voice greeting him cheerfully upon his return to the dormitory. Without meaning to, his lips curved into an affectionate smile. He could not help it - the boy was just too adorable...  
  
"Ohayo, Omi-chan..." He waited for the younger boy to catch up, his eyes twinkling a bit at the sight of the pout that marred the otherwise smiling lips. From what he had heard, he knew that the boy hated being treated like a child. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Ah!" The frowning lips were immediately wiped off as a happy smile replaced it. "I just helped my friends for the new entrants' briefing, and I was tired so I came home to sack out! Wait... have you seen our other dorm mates in there too? I assume you've gone to the auditorium..."  
  
"Nope, I didn't see them... What are they like anyway? I really want to know, coz I haven't seen them all yet." Ran smiled ruefully. "And yeah, I did turn in late, but I was late - I missed the freebies handed out before the program."  
  
"Our dormers are one of the best in this university! They're pretty stable - one of the most stable, actually - mind-wise!" Omi declared in a haughty manner. Then, his eyes gleamed longingly. "Another thing... It's a good thing you didn't turn in early... they gave out a lot of Oreos - not exactly the best there is, coz Strawberry Pocky still tastes best!"  
  
"Really?" He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and ruffled the boy's mop of honey-colored hair. "And you haven't changed much... still quite the nationalist, I see..." He teased, chuckling softly as he shook his head. "Still vying for Japanese treats."  
  
"You should see him attack the Japanese sweets store near the university's back gates - he's going at it like -"  
  
"He's going at it like a rabbit in heat."  
  
"Yeah, he's going at it like rab - HENTAI!"  
  
Ran watched in rapt fascination as a chocolate-haired guy bonked a taller blonde-haired one on the head with a huge paperweight. "ITAI! Will you stop hitting me already? I just hit you once, and unintentionally at that, and still you continue on -"  
  
"Mou... that's because, Youji, you speak like sex is the only thing in your mind!"  
  
"But it IS one of the most prominent things in my mind!" The guy called Youji protested, trying to reason with the other boy.  
  
"HENTAI!"  
  
The cry started off another round of pummeling, and shouts of pain, as well as hate - coupled with embarrassment coming from the flustered Omi near Ran's shocked figure.  
  
"Uh... Ken-kun... will you please stop pounding Youji-kun? You'll cause him extensive brain damage... uh... and you... both have a new guy watching you... go at it like rab-"  
  
"Uh, Omi-kun... I don't think those were the right words to say..."  
  
There was an alarmed look in Ran's lavender eyes as he took in the sudden lapse in Ken's pounding. The gap was long enough for the dark-haired guy to let the words sink in his head, his cheeks redden further, and glower at the poor blonde cowering in front of him. It took all forty seconds for him to do that before -  
  
"What have you been teaching poor Omi-kun?" He raised a hand in preparation for a solid strike. "HENTAI!"  
  
"But I didn't do anything!"  
  
"HENTAI!"  
  
Ran and Omi sweatdropped. They could not do anything but stare and wished divine intervention to help Youji get through the physical and verbal abuse.  
  
"Uh... Ran-kun?"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Didn't I tell you a while ago that all people living here are stable mind- wise?"  
  
Ran nodded, his eyes still focused in disbelief at the warring pair.  
  
"I'm taking it back."  
  
* * *  
  
"You seemed to be having problems." The other guy finally voiced out his thoughts.  
  
He sighed, and looked up, encountering dark inquisitive eyes. "Yeah." murmured softly, suddenly feeling so idiotic. "I was having problems with the. umm. map." He wiggled a thick, colorful, and glossy brochure in the air.  
  
Crawford took off his glasses and folded them neatly on the wooden encasement that was his piano as a slender hand pinched the bridge of his nose in weary countenance.  
  
He could not concentrate.  
  
His mind kept on repeating what had happened that afternoon.  
  
I did not even know who he was...  
  
He sighed, glaring at the sheets of his crappy composition leaning straight on the miniature stand attached to the front of the gigantic instrument. Once again, he positioned his fingers on the pale ivory keys, intending to make way for the completion of his sonata.  
  
However, before he could push the Sol key, a vision of a pale-skinned and slender boy filtered into his psyche. Such heavenly featured complete with thick strands of blood-red hair...  
  
Crawford had not seen anything so beautiful in his whole life.  
  
The beauty was not only physical - he knew... but also on the inside. He saw utter loss in those eyes - and confusion too - confusion that was not from the fact that he lost his way towards the auditorium.  
  
The softness in those eyes amazed him most of all. All emotions were packed there - packed so tight that It was overflowing. At that time - when he looked into those eyes, he wanted to catch the falling emotions with his bare hands. He wanted to feel them too - twice as hard as every drop of emotion fall on his upturned palms...  
  
He was becoming mushy.  
  
With a soft chuckle, he shook his head, his raven locks moving sensually over the strong expanse of his slightly tanned neck. He focused on his piece once more - intent to find something that would further enhance what he knew would be a mellow overtone.  
  
He was a pianist.  
  
He should do his job - not obsessing over some random guy...  
  
With a final sigh, he closed his eyes and let the music he created with his fingers carry him above the hills and into consciousness' azure skies.  
  
* * *  
  
It was finally confirmed.  
  
Ran hated his alarm clock.  
  
The clock jangles, jumping repeatedly on the rosewood stand as if to prove its point that Ran is a lazy bastard because he doesn't want to get up.  
  
With an angry swipe, he sent his clock crashing against the cream-colored walls of his room, dead serious in murdering anyone who disturbed him of his much-needed sleep.  
  
He opened one eye, curious as to how much damage was done on ANOTHER alarm clock, which he had just bought two days ago.  
  
He groaned as his purple eyes caught sight of the tangle of springs that was once his beloved - and short-lived - mechanical contraption.  
  
Great.  
  
Now he had to go shop for another that would be 'crash-proof' to last him an entire lifetime. A waste of money.  
  
He sighed.  
  
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.  
  
"Fujimiya-sempai! Are you awake? We need to go downstairs for breakfast!"  
  
Ran groaned, reluctantly getting up, his head aching a bit as the insistent knocking on the door turned impatient. "I'm up, I'm up..." He called out.  
  
Unfortunately, his voice was not loud enough, and the knocking continued. His patience running short, he bounded over to the huge doors and opened it wide enough for the one knocking to realize that the one he had roused from sleep was now WIDE AWAKE with a frigging headache - special thanks to the stupid alarm clock and the equally stupid knocking.  
  
However, before he could get any word out upon seeing who it was, his eyes were glued with curiosity at the paling features of the boy.  
  
It was Ken.  
  
It was a PALE Ken.  
  
It was a PALE Ken with a NOSEBLEED.  
  
Without meaning to, his eyes strayed at the part of his anatomy that Ken was fixated at - and gasped. Without further ado, he quickly shut the doors, cursing under his breath as he did so.  
  
He forgot that he slept naked.  
  
He quickly wrapped his blanket around him, and opened the door again... only to see Hidaka Ken lying flat on the carpeted floor, obviously out cold, with a nosebleed, and eyes swirling from shock.  
  
He sweatdropped.  
  
He sweatdropped as he crouched down, poking the boy just to make sure that he's alive.  
  
"Uh... Hidaka-kun? *Poke* *Poke* Are you alright?"  
  
There was an indistinct murmur from Ken's supine form...  
  
"Hentai..."  
  
* * *  
  
"Uh, Crawford... are you alright?"  
  
"Gep your hambs ob me, Schulberik!"  
  
"Jeez!" Schuldig raised both his arms in a gesture of surrender. "I was just asking if you're alright - no need to bite my blessed head off!"  
  
"Bo I nook ash ib I'm oldrighb?"  
  
"Uh, Farfarello, do translate..." Schuldig helplessly asked his blonde friend who was looking at them with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.  
  
"I think he asked you if you think he looks alright." Farfarello smiled impishly. "The question sounds normal... although coming from such an uptight lad, I'm sure that was equal to sarcasm."  
  
That earned him a glare from Crawford.  
  
"Aye, mate, that is one heck of a fact!" Schuldig guffawed. "This guy," He hooked his thumb towards the black-haired man's direction. "Needs a good lay!"  
  
"Or a whole evening's worth of sleep." The blonde added, after taking a sip of his coffee.  
  
"Maybe he got laid last night and we didn't know! Then he got sick since he's not used to getting laid!" Schuldig said thoughtfully.  
  
"Dat's enub!" Crawford said, glaring at him with much venom as he could muster. "I did not get laid last night!"  
  
"Figures." Farfarello grinned, downing the last of his drink.  
  
Crawford would have turned his bad eye on him if his plan were not thwarted by a particularly loud sneeze. His eyes watered and he silently cursed his composition instructor as well as a particular face that had not given him an amount of rest last night.  
  
"Bless you!"  
  
All three turned at the unexpected comment behind their table.  
  
Schuldig grinned. "Oi, Omi!" He called out enthusiastically, patting a chair beside him. "Come, and have breakfast with us!"  
  
"Ah, gomen, demo... I 'm just waiting for Nagi-kun to arrive - we have to practice cello together after breakfast - he told me he's not doing too well..." Omi smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head in apology. Then his eyes wandered over to Crawford's pinched features and reddened nose.  
  
"Ano... what happened to your friend?" he asked, pointing at the dark- haired lump of misery listening to their conversation.  
  
"He didn't get laid last night." Farfarello interjected helpfully, earning another glare from Crawford. Schuldig cackled hysterically.  
  
Omi laughed. He was not at all offended at the guy's choice of words. He was comfortable with it, really, since he'd been friends with Farfarello ever since he stepped into the university premises - and Schuldig too.  
  
"He's Bradley Crawford, he came from the USA - from Seattle, wait - did I pronounce it right?" Farfarello said, glancing at the person in question for clarification.  
  
"Yeah, and of all the Americans I know, he's the most uptight - I don't know why though."  
  
Crawford, for the umpteenth time that morning, glared at Schuldig with a silent promise of a slow and painful death.  
  
"Ah. So he's the infamous Bradley Crawford who excelled Instructor Louie de Vry's class!" Omi grinned. His eyes were gleaming in admiration, and at the same time, he was bowing in traditional Japanese gesture of goodwill. "Konnichiwa, Crawford-san! It is a pleasure to meet you! You're a very talented person!"  
  
Crawford's cheeks heated up in flattery. He was still conscious as to his status in the university. He nodded and gave the young boy a small smile.  
  
Suddenly, there was a commotion as people made to gape at a sleek black Porsche that had parked in front of the coffee shop.  
  
Omi's eyes brightened at the sight, and Crawford wondered if he knew who the owner was. However, before his question was put into words, the shop door opened and in came a bundle of quiet energy that had suddenly lightened up at the sight of Omi.  
  
"Omi-kun!" He smiled shyly as he made way towards the other boy.  
  
"Nagi-chan!" Omi exclaimed happily, meeting the other halfway and grasping his hand, leading him towards Crawford's table.  
  
So, this is Nagi. He thought wryly. No wonder he is having a hard time playing the cello... his fingers would be more adept if he just chose to play the flute.  
  
"Minna, this is Naoe Nagi." Omi grinned proudly. "A soon-to-be infamous cello artist!"  
  
Nagi blushed, his eyes downcast as his ears picked up the encouragement in his friend's words.  
  
"Nice to meet you! I'm Schulderich, but Schuldig would be fine." Schuldig grasped the young boy's hand enthusiastically and shaking it until the boy looked up in surprise. When their eyes met, he instantly winked, glancing for a brief moment at Omi. Nagi's face reddened even more at what the wink implied.  
  
"I'm Farfarello." The blonde said softly, his golden irises mellowing at seeing the shy boy fidget under their gaze.  
  
"Any name to go with that?" Nagi asked quietly, his eyes questioning.  
  
Farfarello's eyes darkened for a millisecond, but was quickly quelched as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He shook his head. "I don't want to be called by my name - too much negative energy."  
  
"Oh." The young boy nodded in comprehension.  
  
"He's Bradley Crawford." Omi said, pointing at Crawford's sickly frame. "He did not get laid last night."  
  
"Omi-kun!" Nagi's eyes widened in shock, his eyes drifting off to Crawford's embarrassed features. "You didn't?" he asked the exasperated elder man.  
  
Crawford groaned, shaking his head as bouts of laughter erupted around the table. He was about to retort when his eyes fixated on a tall figure making its way towards them.  
  
He could not breathe. 


	4. Chapter 3: Kami Wa Taisetsuna Mono O Kiz...

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Three BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 3: Kami Wa Taisetsuna Mono O Kizutsukeru  
  
He could not breathe.  
  
"Ohayo, Ran-kun!" Omi called out, waving at him as he sauntered with obvious unease towards an overcrowded table. "Come, let me introduce you to these people!"  
  
He complied, nodding his head in agreement... but still... he could not breathe.  
  
He lowered his eyes to the ground, unable to look up at the cheerful faces gazing expectantly at him... well, almost cheerful faces looking up at him. There was one particularly shocked face peeking out from the sea of creamy flesh surrounding his normal line of sight...  
  
It was the same face of the one who had helped him when he was lost yesterday.  
  
He could not breathe.  
  
* * *  
  
/Ran.../  
  
/His name is Ran/.  
  
Crawford's initial shock faded as he scrutinized the man standing before them. /Ran... I wonder what it means... It's probably something beautiful... as beautiful as he is.../  
  
He finally had a name - and with that, he was fully contented.  
  
"Watashi wa Fujimiya Ran, desu." Came the deep and hauntingly melodic voice. It would not come as a surprise to him if this man would be enrolled in the Conservatory as a vocalist.  
  
"Uh, hi, man!" Schuldig grinned awkwardly, slapping his hand playfully against the newcomer's back. "Nice to meet you - very nice, in fact! I'm Schuldig -"  
  
"Guilty? Of what?" Ran looked at him with confused eyes.  
  
Schuldig's eyes widened as he discovered that the new guy could speak German. He turned happily towards the others. "Hey Halteseile! Er spricht Deutsch!" *  
  
"Uh, Schuldig... come again?" Farfarello asked, looking quite clueless as to what his friend was saying.  
  
"Schu-kun, even if Ran-kun knows German, it doesn't mean that we all do!" Omi sighed, exasperatedly.  
  
Schuldig slapped his forehead soundly, letting the parted fingers slide down his face in irritation. "Okay." He said, taking in a deep breath. "Translation: "Hey guys! He speaks German!" Okay now, satisfied?" He glared at Farfarello. "You should know those sentences - I taught you a Deutsch!"  
  
Farfarello just tipped his head to the side and smiled smugly. "I was just teasing - and you fell for it."  
  
"Let me at him! Let me at him!" The hotheaded German yelled, trying to punch the blonde in the face. "Stop holding me back, Omi - Nagi! I'll - eep!" he squeaked as a newspaper swatted him forcefully at the back of his head. He rubbed his mop of orange hair and glared at the one who whapped him vehemently.  
  
"Thank you, Crawford." Farfarello grinned, his golden irises twinkling as he surveyed the damage it did to the grumbling musician.  
  
"You're webcom." Crawford said, finishing his sentence with a sneeze. "Ow! It hurtd my lungbs..."**  
  
"Ouch." Nagi murmured, his eyes straying worriedly towards the dark- haired American.  
  
That did it.  
  
Soon, Crawford erupted into huge bouts of uncontrollable laughter. He clutched his sides, trying to alleviate the pain from laughing out too hard. He was so sure that everyone was looking at him as if he was insane, however, he was somehow surprised as a chuckle bubbled up Ran's lips, and he knew he was not the only one affected by the unexpected sound. Omi was looking up at Ran, very much teary-eyed, Nagi too... and he couldn't help seeing Farfarello and Schuldig's eyes looking at him rather fondly.  
  
Who wouldn't look at him like that?  
  
It was as if he laughed for the first time in years!  
  
After his laughter subsided, Crawford made a promise to himself...  
  
/I WILL make you smile. as often as I could./  
  
/That's a vow, Fujimiya Ran./  
  
* * *  
  
"I think he's pretty cool, don't you think, Brad?"  
  
Crawford nodded, unable to make a coherent statement, deciding to just stay silent to avoid saying things he did not want to say aloud.  
  
"Er ist etwas, den Sie aufwärmen konnten... Ich gerade weiß nicht, warum er sich versteckt unter dieser Schablone von seinem..."*** Schuldig supplied, his features a mask of amazement, patting the seat at his side, silently inviting Farfarello to join him in his afternoon break. "ahh... Ich hasse Montag Nachmittage! Professor Flutesnoot gibt uns seinen Mörder Aufbautests! "****  
  
"You know Schu... I'm starting to hate that German part of you..." Farfarello grimaced as his friend went on with his Deutsch tirade. "When you start speaking it, you turn creepy!"  
  
"Ah!" Schuldig smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head apologetically. "I was just carried away..."  
  
"You usuaby arb."***** Crawford retorted, pulling on the brakes, honking at the stupid stoplight, and sneezing in rapid succession. "Ow..." he muttered darkly, frowning.  
  
"Maybe you should get something for that cold, Brad."  
  
He glanced with surprise at the apparent concern his otherwise apathetic friend showed him. He gave him a wan smile. "Thanks for the concern Jei." He said softly, his eyes misting over from contentment, and of course, from the blasted cold. He was secretly glad that Farfarello gave him permission to address him by his name. He knew how hard it was for him, and it came with a huge amount of surprise that the Irishman actually allowed it... He allowed him and Schuldig to call him by it... when he would scalp anyone who would utter the word even in its minutest sound.  
  
He was truly lucky that he considered him a friend.  
  
"Don'tb dworry tboo mub boub nmeb - I'b gwoingb do bed fineb tbomorrob, trustb nmeb."******  
  
Silence.  
  
"You know, Farf, I have a bad feeling about this trusting thing." Schuldig's jade eyes narrowed as he stared hard at Crawford.  
  
Farfarello shook his head, one corner of his mouth quirking in a semblance of a smirk.  
  
"Tell me about it."  
  
* * *  
  
"Oi, Nagi-chan." Omi said tiredly. "What do you want to do now?"  
  
He was lying on a huge four-poster bed, an arm slung to cover his eyes from the stinging light of the overhead chandelier shining directly down at him.  
  
Nagi, on the other hand, fiddled with the green bedsheets, gazing at Omi with unreadable eyes. "I don't know, really... I'm too tired after all that -" He blushed, unable to continue.  
  
Omi suddenly straightened and gave him a lingering look, then, quietly reached out and touched his hair. "I don't know either. It became too intense, and we couldn't help but push through... Sorry for being so rough."  
  
"Iya, it's alright. It wasn't a big deal - the pain was worth it... very much worth it." Nagi smiled batting the hand fingering his bangs gently. "Maybe we could just lie here and sack out for awhile, and maybe later..."  
  
The boy's words were suddenly cut off by a particularly loud thud behind the suite's door. They both exchanged glances and crept quietly towards the direction of the sound. Omi was in the lead, motioning Nagi to follow. Once there, the blonde swung the door open, and gasped to find a familiar body lying swirly-eyed on the carpeted floor.  
  
"Uh... Ken-kun? *Poke* *Poke* Are you alright?" Omi called falteringly, poking the boy on the ribs.  
  
Nagi's gaze was full of worry, as he hovered around his elder friend. "Ken-san?"  
  
Without warning, Ken's hand shot up in the air, making the two of them jump back in surprise.  
  
"Ack!"  
  
"Yikes!"  
  
Then, the hand stiffened, after a few moments of complete silence, it dropped down the owner's side...  
  
Nagi could not make much out of the words being uttered by the fallen boy...  
  
Except...  
  
"Hentai..."  
  
* * *  
  
"Aya-chan..."  
  
There was much loneliness in that voice.  
  
Youji crept up closer to the door in an effort to know what was going on. He had been searching for Ken for over half an hour when he heard someone crying. He investigated; being the busybody that he was...  
  
... Well, not exactly busybody... I was just concerned...  
  
Yeah right, go on; convince yourself that you're doing this to help.  
  
But I'm really -  
  
Tomorrow, by the time the cock does the traditional cock-a-doodle-doo in the morning, I would bet that everyone knows of what you're gonna discover tonight!  
  
You know what?  
  
What?  
  
You suck - so just shut up!  
  
He was at the end of his internal debate with his conscience when he heard the cried getting louder.  
  
What the -  
  
"Aya-chan... Why did you leave me? You're the only family I ever had..." "When otousan and okaasan left us alone as orphans, you were the only one left for me to protect - the only one I could acquire support from...  
  
I vowed to protect you - but I didn't... I was too weak to protect you, I -"  
  
And Youji could not bear to hear anymore.  
  
He ran away to his room.  
  
Inside, he plopped on the bed and closed his eyes. "Ran went through a lot... and still he remained strong, if not nonchalant, about it. He shows great courage - and I admire it in him."  
  
It was in the past - and yet, why does it feel like the shadows that governed their lives before is still there in his?  
  
TBC  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
NOTES:  
  
(*) "Hey guys! He speaks German! (**) "You're Welcome" "Ow! It huts my lungs!" (***) "He is someone you could warm up to... However, I do not know why he hides himself under that mask of his... " (****)"Ahh... I hate Monday afternoons! Professor Flutesnoot gives us his hard composition tests!" (*****)"You usually are" (******)"Don't worry too much about me." "I'm going to be fine tomorrow, trust me."  
  
A/N:  
  
Sorry for the long wait people, got my midterm week coming up, so I'm really sorry to come up with just this for the next chapter. I promise to do well on the next! Please review! THANKS! ^_^ 


	5. Chapter 4: Voice of Heaven

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Four BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 4: Voice of Heaven  
  
There was still much time before dawn breaks... almost everything seemed so calm... so serene...  
  
"No!"  
  
Almost... except a troubled heart.  
  
"But I thought -"  
  
"Sensei, I will not do as you say... I will do something else, just not what you ask me to do."  
  
"Fujimiya Ran, what I say is the order around here. I get to tell you what your capabilities are and how to improve them. Now, I can safely say that my judgment is never wrong. You are fit for doing what I ask of you, and then you're telling me that you don't want to?" The young dark-haired maestro yelled, throwing up his hands in frustration. "What would you do? Overwork trying to learn a damned instrument when you obviously weren't cut out for playing one? Sacrilege!"  
  
Ran did not say anything. All he did was glare at the maestro. He knew the guy was right... yet he could not bring himself to submit to what the instructor wanted. "I will not change my mind." He muttered darkly, so incensed that the maestro even too a hasty step back at the sight of the silently glowering boy. "I am already twenty years old, and I will do what I want to do."  
  
With that, he turned and walked away, the clatter of his boot heels echoing in the endless marble corridors of the faculty building.  
  
The maestro sighed, shaking his head.  
  
"How long are you going to keep up with this?" He murmured quietly, watching the ethereal figure disappear behind the oaken door.  
  
* * *  
  
The sound of the piano keys was haunting in the early mornings... and almost everyone in the music domicile listens to it the moment they pass by towards the cafeteria for breakfast.  
  
The person playing the instrument would continue endlessly, plunging into the haunting tones of Beethoven and Bach, of Schubert and Chopin... zeroing to a tune still indefinable - something not heard before...  
  
Everything would sound almost perfect...  
  
... Until the playing would stop and a single heartfelt cry of frustration would follow, making the heart of every person listening break...  
  
Schuldig heard it.  
  
Farfarello heard it.  
  
They exchanged a look of sympathy... and trudged wordlessly towards where the sound came from.  
  
It was time that this stops.  
  
* * *  
  
Crawford was miserable.  
  
"I habe dith." [1]He muttered to himself - sneezing after he did so.  
  
Yes, his cold was still plaguing him, bordering almost to being flu. His hands were shaking as he held up his forkful of salad in the air. He glared at the offending piece of who-knows-what that resembled a piece of graying chicken before taking a bite. He immediately grimaced, his lips twisting from the taste - actually, the lack thereof. With a look of distaste, he let the fork clatter on the porcelain bowl - an imitation of a porcelain bowl to be more precise, and glared at Farfarello who was nursing a cup of mocha latte.  
  
"Don't glare at me like that." The Irishman mumbled through a mouthful of icy beverage. "I know you're being you, and I know I should not be offended, but something's amiss in those eyes."  
  
Crawford's eyes took on an almost manic glitter.  
  
Still, it did not seem to have any effect on his friend. Farfarello just gave him a smirk and continued guzzling the concoction he was so fond of. "I'm not worth a lifetime in prison Brad." He said. "You don't want to kill me."  
  
Fiery American blood boiled in his body. A vein popped on his forehead and he raised a shaking fist at Farfarello, his eyes promising a single powerful punch on the head. "I saib I wanteb do ith! Dis ith notb * Achoo! * fub!"[2]  
  
"Yo, Farf! Hallo Crawfish! What's up?"  
  
Crawford groaned, slumping down in defeat. Great, Schuldig suddenly appeared. Now he would have to deal with two of the peskiest people he had ever had the un-pleasure to know.  
  
"He's too used to posh places." Farfarello smiled, setting down an empty on the decaying wooden table.  
  
"Oh, I see." Schuldig grinned, settling himself on the wrought-iron seat next to the blond. "He's so overloaded with money that he's not used to eat in cafes like this one... understandable." He nodded, self- satisfied.  
  
"Thib ith a café?"[3] Crawford could not believe his ears. The rundown place is a CAFÉ? Since when did a place consisting of waitresses with slutty personalities and multi-colored hair become a café? Since when did cafés serve limp salads and bad pastries? He eyed his croissant with obvious revulsion.  
  
"Yes, Brad, this is a café, believe it or not." Farfarello stated, raising an eyebrow at the look of hate in his friends eyes - over the piece of bread sitting quietly before him. He wanted to laugh, but he knew that it would only annoy the American further. After all, Annoying Quotes 101 is Schuldig's department. "Not all cafés are like those in New York. There are downtown places like this that exists too."  
  
The German nodded his head in agreement. "Ja, and downtown cafés serve better coffees too - well, most of them." He gestured towards the still-steaming cup of thick brown liquid left unattended beside Crawford's plate. "We often come here for coffee even before you started studying here a year ago..."  
  
"It reminds us of many lessons in life"  
  
"Like whab?"[4] Inky eyes darkened.  
  
"We decided to bring you here to show you more of what we are like." Farfarello supported, smiling and nudging the cup towards a slinking Crawford. "You don't know us too well even after all these months... and you obviously weren't warming up at the idea of having a major change in your life. Therefore, what we are trying to do now is to show you what is good, and what is not."  
  
"That drink's excellent, try it!"  
  
Crawford glared at the offending chipped mug. "I don't knowb why youb orbered me cofi... I hateb cofi!" With a sigh, he finally succumbed to his friends' insistence. Closing his eyes and bracing himself for a pure onslaught of badly mixed coffee, he took a sip... and his eyes snapped open in wonder.  
  
"Itd gud!"[5] He exclaimed, sipping from the cup again. "Wow."  
  
Farfarello and Schuldig exchanged triumphant glances.  
  
"Now, do you understand?" Farfarello smiled, raising a hand for the bill.  
  
"Untherstanth whab? Thath thisb place is gud."[6] Crawford raised an eyebrow in question.  
  
"No, I supposed he doesn't." Schuldig grinned at the Irishman, his green eyes glittering with amusement. Then, he turned to him. "We're just showing you, Bradley Crawford, that not every person is like you. Some would be different - a lot different in fact - because they see other things besides those that are not at all pleasing to the senses."  
  
"Huh?" Now he was weirded out. /Since when did Schuldig talk like this? Jei is really rubbing off on him...What do they -/  
  
"I don't understand..."  
  
* * *  
  
"Where's Ran?" Ken asked Omi and Youji as he sat with them near the fountain. "I haven't seen him all morning... now, it's past lunch time! I wonder if he ate already... He seemed to have skipped breakfast..."  
  
Youji was grim. "I don't think he wants to be disturbed." He murmured, avoiding the looks of surprise from his friends.  
  
"You know where he is." Omi said falteringly, noting the lack of amusement on the elder man's face.  
  
The blonde's face was unreadable.  
  
"I saw him returning to his room before the crack of dawn." /Not to mention that I overheard him angst last night.../ "He looked so down."  
  
Ken's voice took on a worried edge. "What do we do then?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
* * *  
  
Crawford sighed for the umpteenth time, trying not to let a scream of frustration out of his mouth.  
  
He was a pianist.  
  
He should do his job - not obsessing over the fact that he could not even compose a good piece so early in the afternoon...  
  
With a final sigh, he closed his eyes and let the music he created with his fingers carry him above the hills and into consciousness' azure skies.  
  
Yet, the fact remains.  
  
The music he was playing was not his.  
  
He was playing the music composed by those who came and died before he was born.  
  
Not his...  
  
His world seemed so dark... so pointless...  
  
  
  
"Now, do you understand?" Farfarello smiled, raising a hand for the bill.  
  
"Untherstanth whab? Thath thisb place is gud?" Crawford raised an eyebrow in question.  
  
"No, I supposed he doesn't." Schuldig grinned at the Irishman, his green eyes glittering with amusement. Then, he turned to him. "We're just showing you, Bradley Crawford, that not every person is like you. Some would be different - a lot different in fact - because they see other things besides those that are not at all pleasing to the senses."  
  
"Huh?" Now he was weirded out. /Since when did Schuldig talk like this? Jei is really rubbing off on him...What do they -/  
  
  
  
Oh.  
  
He immediately straightened as a realization crashed down on him. Suddenly, a bright smile graced his features.  
  
/The salad may be limp and tasteless at the same time; the bread may be bad, but there are still things in that café that are quite good.../  
  
/ I may not be perfect. Everything may be down... all my attempts at creating artsy compositions may be a complete failure, but there are still things that I must consider before giving up altogether... I still have my talent in playing the piano, and that is good. /  
  
/I should learn to see fine things amidst the dire ones. /  
  
/I should learn to be more positive. /  
  
/Jei, Engel, thank you.../  
  
"I understand."  
  
* * *  
  
Ran was miserable.  
  
He was still huddled on the bed inside his room, and tears were still streaking down his puffy eyes.  
  
/I do not want to sing... It reminds me of so many things.../  
  
He closed his eyes and memories came rushing back.  
  
/Aya... Otousan... Okaasan.../  
  
/I cannot sing... I - /  
  
/I cannot.../  
  
"Help me... please..."  
  
* * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Well, what do you guys think? ^_~  
  
----------------------- [1] "I hate this" [2] "I said I wanted to eat! This is not *Achoo!* food!" [3] "This is a café?" [4] "Like what?" [5] "It's good!" [6] "Understand what? That this place is good?" 


	6. Chapter 5: The Mystery That Was Fujimiya...

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Five BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 5: The Mystery That Was Fujimiya Ran  
  
"Help me... please..."  
  
The sound of the plea was somehow disconcerting. He had just passed by a closed oaken door when he heard the mournful supplication. Curious, he strained his ears to hear more, and possibly, where the voice was coming from. It seemed to be coming from...  
  
"Help me... please..."  
  
Ah, there it was again... wait - was that a sob?  
  
He was starting to panic, he knew, and he tried to control himself from opening all the doors around... starting with the one standing shut before him. He was sure that it was coming from behind that particular door.  
  
He had heard many painful and suffering voices in his life, and he knew a suicidal one when he hears it - it sounds sort of like - like the one he was hearing right then.  
  
"I... I cannot -"  
  
He winced at the utter desperation the word represented, and was currently internalizing a personal debate, as well as contemplating on many ways on how to barge in and comfort the owner of the mysterious voice, when...  
  
"Yuushi!"  
  
"Kyaa!" He yelped, jumping a hundred meters into the air, and landing smack on his bottom. "OW!" He turned and glared at the owner of the voice who intruded upon his thoughts. "Naru-chan! What the heck are you doing here? You scared me!"  
  
Naru grinned, scratching the back of his head in apology. "I heard some desperate voice coming from this floor, and I decided to investigate..."  
  
Yuushi nodded, his blond hair bobbing from the quick movement, and turned worriedly towards the door again. "It's coming from behind here... I heard it too - when I passed by..."  
  
Naru followed his gaze, his eyes betraying a sudden sense of fright as he thought of something disturbing. "Wait - isn't that the empty room? How come there's someone crying in there?" He whispered thoughtfully.  
  
Yuushi paled.  
  
Slowly, he turned towards his younger friend. "Don't tell me..."  
  
Naru nodded, meeting his gaze. He too was pale - and nervous.  
  
They stood there, unsure of what to do, and very much afraid.  
  
Yuushi's mind was a complete tangle. /No. There are no ghosts. There must be some sort of explanation for this.../  
  
Naru's mind was also traveling in the same wavelength. /Maybe someone's stuck in there, asking for help... there are no such things as ghosts... right? /  
  
/Maybe.../  
  
/Maybe.../  
  
"Boo."  
  
"Kyaa!"  
  
"Eeyagh!"  
  
A dark-haired man stood behind them, silently laughing.  
  
"Masato-san! Don't scare us like that!" Naru pouted, glaring with al the anger he could muster.  
  
"Masato - one of these days, I'm gonna kill you!" Yuushi waved a threatening fist at the newcomer.  
  
Masato just raised an unperturbed eyebrow and grinned slyly. "I sure gave both of you a scare." He turned his attentions towards the closed door. "I wonder what's wrong..."  
  
"No one lives there now, right, sempai?" Naru asked, in a tiny tone of voice. "There's - someone crying inside..."  
  
"Please..."  
  
Yuushi felt goosebumps rise in his arms at the sound of another desperate plea. Naru shuddered, inching a couple of steps away.  
  
Masato said nothing, but there was grim determination in his eyes that intimidated the blond. He raised a hand and knocked softly on the wooden door.  
  
The other two behind him gaped, shock marring their features. Why was he knocking? There's no one in there!  
  
"Fujimiya, please open the door." He called gently. "It's I, Masato."  
  
Much to their surprise, they heard a shuffle of feet and then the door opened.  
  
"Masato-san." The man Masato called 'Fujimiya' greeted quietly, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. He was wearing a thin white shirt and blue jeans with it, and they were almost rumpled beyond repair.  
  
Yuushi could not keep his eyes off the guy.  
  
/God, he is beautiful.../  
  
Masato's eyes softened at the sorry sight the boy presented. Fujimiya ran looked so vulnerable, and so... unhappy. Manx had given him a brief background about the boy, since it's his duty to know and take care of the students residing in Sakura as the dorm president. He could not say that he was pleased at the information that had been passed to him.  
  
"Are you alright?" He asked with a bit of apprehensiveness.  
  
Ran took a deep breath and gave his senior a miniscule smile. "Aa... I'm fine... just tired... exhausting classes..."  
  
Masato could tell what a lie is when he hears one.  
  
Ran just lied to him between his teeth.  
  
He took a calming breath, and controlled his disciplining nature. He knew Ran had a row with the Conservatorium's head, and he knew he would not have any classes until after three days. He usually do not allow anyone to lie to him, however, due to the boy's circumstances, he let it go.  
  
"You look tired." Masato smiled, placing a comforting hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Rest. We will just call you dinnertime... I was just asking if you are alright."  
  
Ran nodded, giving another wan smile and prepared to close the door. Suddenly he stopped and looked up, his eyes widening behind the tinted lenses of his sunglasses as he heard the parting words of his senior.  
  
"Try to forget Fujimiya-kun... try to forget and start living your life."  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"Masato!" Yuushi called out when the three of them were out of Ran's hearing range. The dorm president was trying his best to ignore him - that much he knew from the way his senior was responding to Naru's comments and taking no notice of his efforts to ask about the boy they had seen earlier. "Masato! Will you stop doing that? You're pissing me off - big time!"  
  
"Your questions don't merit an answer." The elder man said quietly, stopping before his room and fitting the skeleton key in the lock.  
  
"Eh?" Naru's eyes widened as he heard the steely undertone that the blond obviously did not take notice of. "Sempai?"  
  
"What?" Yuushi protested, his eyes narrowing. "I was just asking why Fujimiya looked so forlorn a while ago! Don't tell me you don't know - I know you do, because I saw your eyes take him in sympathetically! C'mon, chief, speak up!"  
  
"..."  
  
With that, Masato opened his door and got in, slamming the door soundly. The wooden surface struck him smack in the middle of his forehead, at the same time, effectively squishing his nose.  
  
"Itai!" He groaned in pain. "That hurt!"  
  
Naru stood by helplessly, trying to get the blond off from trying to break down the door.  
  
POUND. POUND. POUND.  
  
WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.  
  
"MASATO! OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR - NOW!"  
  
WHACK!  
  
Don't stop me, Naru - I'm gonna pound him to death for what he did to my nose!"  
  
Naru sweatdropped.  
  
* * *  
  
"I'm going out, Alex, keep an eye on my room for me." Crawford said respectfully to his dorm's caretaker, giving him a tired smile before he stepped out through the front door.  
  
He started walking aimlessly, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed down, watching as his black boots crushed the grass growing under his feet.  
  
He was still depressed, that he was sure of. His friends' encouragement did take a chunk of his woes away, but it did not exactly eradicate it completely. Sighing, he stopped and looked up at the dark sky. The stars were twinkling like diamonds on midnight blue velvet, and the moon was almost ghostly as a draft of air pushed feathers of clouds across its pale face.  
  
Pale... Just like Fujimiya Ran.  
  
He closed his eyes and conjured the ever-welcome image in his mind.  
  
Pale skin rivaling that of a moonbeam, hair as rich and thick as flowing blood and eyes as purple as amethysts, sparkling under the canopy of thick, dark lashes.  
  
He was beautiful.  
  
God, he was beautiful.  
  
Suddenly, he heard something.  
  
He strained to hear what it was, and his eyes widened in surprise as he realized that what he had heard is the sound of someone singing.  
  
::Umarete kita kioku wa:: ::Yawarakana kodou ni tsutsumare:: ::Haha ni dakarete nemutteta::  
  
Crawford could not distinguish what the song was... but he was sure that it was not English. His feet moved quickly, his mind trying to decipher the location of the haunting melody. He turned right and left, moving towards a random looming dormitory.  
  
:: Nokosareta tamashii wa:: ::Mezame no nai yami o samayou:: ::Tsurai koto bakari datta ne::  
  
His mind went on overdrive. He nearly smiled in disbelief as his feet took him farther and farther away from the dormitories - away from the Conservatorium. If he were right with his hunch, then he would quickly know who it was that captured his attention so. He was quite positive that the one singing so exquisitely was within the area he in his mind.  
  
:: Osanai omoide wa:: ::Egao mo chi no umi ni:: ::Nido to kaeranu Chichi no nukumori:: ::Kono inori:: ::Todokunara::  
  
It was his sanctuary.  
  
As he stepped before a low run-down wall, the singing was louder than ever - and even more haunting. Sighing silently, he placed his hands on the flat top of the wall and vaulted himself towards the other side. He landed with catlike grace on the tall grass, and bounded towards where his ears could practically detect the sound.  
  
He shifted the overgrown leaves of a prickly flowering rose bush, and finally got to look at the source of the haunting song.  
  
:: Aa, mamoritakatta:: ::Ima mo Hitori de iru no ka::  
  
The voice was perfect... but for him, the person singing was even more perfect.  
  
Crawford finally made up his mind to let his presence be known. He stepped forward and his lips stretched into an admiring smile.  
  
"Good evening, Fujimiya Ran."  
  
* * *  
  
Purple eyes widened in shock.  
  
He could not believe it.  
  
A heavy blush stained his normally pale cheeks.  
  
He had heard him sing... How long had he been standing behind him? How could he have been a total idiot that he did not even feel someone lurking near him?  
  
He wanted to cry as the person whom his eyes focused on sauntered nearer...  
  
He willed himself to move, to scamper away, anything! He wanted to escape... He had been discovered! What would he do now?  
  
"Ran..."  
  
That again... his name.  
  
He had never thought that a voice would make his body shiver that way.  
  
He opened his lips to say something that could somehow turn the events around and make the other feel whatever discomfort he was feeling - something along the lines of invading his newly found sanctuary...  
  
However, instead of the thoughts circulating around his brain cells, his mouth uttered another set of words that mirrored the convivial words the other parts of his body dictated...  
  
"Crawford-san... Ohayo."  
  
* * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Yeah! Another chapter added! ^_^ Finally! Whew! ^_^ I thought I couldn't update anymore... Ehehe ^_^ anyway, what do you think about the this part? ^_^ BTW, the song Ran sung was from "Jesus Christ Love for You" by Koji Nanjo of ZetsuAi/Bronze. ^_^ Gotta love that song! ^_^ 


	7. Chapter 6: A Small Step towards Sanity

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Six BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding part... the Crashers too. ^_^;  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 6: A Small Step towards Sanity  
  
"Ran..."  
  
"Crawford-san... Ohayo."  
  
It was then that Crawford decided he liked the sound of his name... well, surname, actually... coming from Ran's tongue. Maybe he can make him say his REAL name instead of the polite enunciation of the word "Crawford" with a Japanese term "san" connected to it. He smiled warmly at the boy and walked towards him, seemingly amused at the sight of the redhead's skittishness as he took continuous steps.  
  
"Mind if I sit down?" He asked quietly, touching a stiff shoulder with natural tenderness.  
  
He watched carefully at the conflicting emotions painted visibly on the younger boy's features before settling on a none-too-heartfelt nod in reply. He quickly plopped down beside him on the rushes, and stretched out his long legs, leaning back on his arms as he gazed up into the dazzling night sky.  
  
It was the perfect feeling of peace.  
  
Crawford closed his eyes, feeling the bite of a particularly strong blast of wind on his cheeks that were too rosy after searching for a good deal of minutes.  
  
"Have you ever felt this much peace in your life?" He asked almost inaudibly. "Like nothing would matter as long as you stay like this... in a place yet undiscovered and untold, a place that only you know alone?"  
  
He felt Ran's questioning gaze on him. He knew the boy was perplexed over his words... maybe, he too was mystified... he had never said such words to anyone before in his whole life. Not even to his friends.  
  
"I don't understand..." Came the quiet reply.  
  
With a chuckle, Crawford straightened and rid his hands off grass slivers. He abruptly turned to Ran and gave him an astounding smile. "I always come here when I'm troubled." He revealed, watching the growing mortification on Ran's face as understanding crashed on him. "This has always been my sanctuary... the only place where I can think - and feel an inner sense of peace... my own Paradise."  
  
"Kami-sama..." He heard Ran whisper, standing up in haste. "Gomen, gomen, gomen nasai!"  
  
Without thinking, he reached out and gripped a soft cotton sleeve. "Hey, don't go..."  
  
"Iie, Watashi wa -"  
  
"Do translate." Crawford laughed in amusement at Ran's reddening cheeks. "I didn't understand what you were saying."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Oh." He mimicked, pulling him down beside him. "'Oh' what?"  
  
"I'm sorry for... I mean, this is your place... I shouldn't be in here... I've got to go..."  
  
Crawford clamped a firm hand on his shoulder, rendering him immobile. "You're going to stay." He said with absolute finality. "You aren't going anywhere."  
  
"But -"  
  
"But nothing." Crawford finally loosened his hold and placed both his hands on his lap. "I did not bring the sanctuary thing just to make you scram off somewhere." He looked up into the night sky again.  
  
"I don't understand..."  
  
"Yes, Fujimiya Ran, you don't understand many things." He said, nodding in self-satisfaction. "So let me explain what my motives are when I said what I did."  
  
"I -"  
  
Crawford held up a hand, halting the other's flow of apologizing words. "What I meant was that," He cleared his throat, glancing at the confused boy. "One must enjoy the peace he has found. I gather you found tranquility here."  
  
Ran did not answer. He just looked down, concentrating on his fidgeting fingers situated on his lap.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes. Anyway -"  
  
"Iie."  
  
He immediately stopped, tilting his head to the side in question. "Pardon?"  
  
"No."  
  
It was Crawford's turn to be confused. "I don't understand."  
  
Ran sighed, his eyes straying back and meeting his dark orbs. "You wouldn't understand." He murmured, his eyes glistening, as if welcoming the force of a flurry of tears.  
  
The American's eyes softened.  
  
Ran looked vulnerable. The wonderfully intense amethyst eyes that had haunted him to no end were not visible. All he could see were damaged pieces of gemstones reflecting an equally damaged soul.  
  
"Ran." He whispered... just that - his name.  
  
And silence reigned in their paradise.  
  
* * *  
  
Ran was caught under the spell of those tender brown eyes. Even as memories flooded his senses, he could not escape the fact that he was breathless.  
  
Everything was still.  
  
Everything seemed to be experiencing the heavy bout of breathlessness that he was somehow feeling.  
  
All were silent.  
  
And then the whispered words.  
  
"Pain. I can see your pain." Crawford's soothing voice intruded upon the blessed stillness.  
  
  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
"You have a beautiful voice, Ran-niichan!" A youthful female voice chirped through the early morning light. "Why don't you take up music in college?"  
  
Ran smiled, shaking his head as he ruffled his sister's blue-black hair. "I can't, and you know it, Aya-chan." He murmured. "As much as I want to, I need to take up business courses for the benefit of our company."  
  
"Eh? You can hire someone to manage it!" Aya protested, pouting prettily.  
  
"Otousan and Okaasan won't approve." He closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "Sometimes I wish that they wouldn't intervene much in my life... they're practically living it..."  
  
END FLASHBACK  
  
  
  
"What caused that great amount of pain?" Crawford's question launched another set of scenes flying into his overused brain.  
  
  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
"Aya keep on running! Don't stop until I tell you to!"  
  
"Demo, Ran-niichan! I cannot hold on anymore!"  
  
"We're going to make it, please, try to keep up - if we don't do this, they'll get us for sure!"  
  
"Niichan... *pant* my heart... Itai..."  
  
"Aya!"  
  
There was a flurry of footsteps. Ran knew they had been spotted. He had stopped to tend to his fallen sister, intending to just carry her - even with his injuries.  
  
It was too late.  
  
There was the reverberating scream of a loaded gun matching with an agonized shriek of a person in extreme pain.  
  
Ran's eyes were blank. All he could see was the steady flow of warm blood that gushed down his pale arms.  
  
"Aya..." He murmured inaudibly. "Aya..."  
  
He felt an instantaneous slide of steel against his forehead. He looked up at the gun pointed and touching his flesh smack between the eyes.  
  
"Ah, Fujimiya Ran - just like your cowardly father. Always running..." The squat man holding the gun to his head jeered. "Oh, and about your beautiful sister. She was left under my care for quite a while before you came to get her back. She's fragile - with her heart problems and all... However, wait - let me share with you a shocking secret...Do you know that she tasted so good below the waist? So warm... and so wet..."  
  
"KISAMA!" He growled, dropping the lifeless body of his sister and lunging angrily at the gloating murderer. "Takatori Reiji - DIE!"  
  
However, before he could land a deadly blow on his opponent, a leather belt was looped around his neck, choking him as it was pulled back.  
  
Takatori laughed manically, his eyes glinting with pure evil. He sauntered towards him as he struggled against the two bulky men handling him roughly. The cold steel of the gun slid down his neck, making him shiver with something akin to fear. The perpetrator obviously mistook it for something else, eliciting a predatory look from the beady orbs.  
  
"They say you have a heavenly voice, Ran." He murmured gruffly, pushing the barrel of his weapon against the pale chin, making the boy look at him straight in the eyes with full revulsion. "They say it's as close to heaven as you look. I wonder if that is true..."  
  
Ran closed his eyes as he fought his urge to throw up, feeling a pudgy hand being insinuated inside his bloody clothes.  
  
"Maybe you should sing for me before bedtime."  
  
END FLASHBACK  
  
By then, tears were dripping down Ran's pale cheeks.  
  
/Pain... when will this torture ever end? /  
  
* * *  
  
The presence of tears spurred Crawford into action.  
  
His heart pounded as he pulled him into his arms. His hands soothed the younger boy, rubbing his back gently, massaging one-handedly at the knots on the fragile shoulders.  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
/He must have had an unhappy life. / Crawford mused, feeling tears prickling his own closed eyelids. His heart felt as if it was being clamped by an iron vise.  
  
Tears sopped the front of his shirt, and he knew it would look like hell before he even washed it, but he did not care. All he cared about was making Ran's pain disappear. What could he do?  
  
He held him tighter, murmuring endearments that he knew would somehow help calm the helpless boy. Ran clutched his thin shirt, crumpling it beyond repair. The tightening of the fingers' hold tightened the vise around his heart at the same rate.  
  
/Ran... what had happened to you before? Why do you break down now? Why? /  
  
He let out a shuddering sigh, pushing Ran a small distance away from him. "Ran... Shh... It's alright... everything's gonna be fine."  
  
"Demo... demo... Watashi wa..."  
  
Crawford had absolutely no clue as to what Ran was saying. All he knew was that the words were laced with a peculiar sense of desperation and utter loneliness that made him want to protect him from everything.  
  
Gently, he wiped the tears away with his slender fingers and smiled reassuringly.  
  
"It's alright." He whispered tenderly, ghosting a touch on a cold cheek before turning towards the still-starry sky.  
  
"My mother once told me that pain is inextinguishable." He started, his eyes glazing in memory. "... That pain is a major part of every person's life..."  
  
Ran stilled, probably, he thought, trying to gauge what he meant. He smiled softly and went on, one of his hands straying over to the boy's fiery mane, caressing the wisps with his questing fingers.  
  
"She said that even if grief exists, one only has to believe to drive the unbearable feeling away... believe that even with all the insanity surrounding you, there will always be someone ready to catch you and keep you safe."  
  
He looked down onto the thoughtful features of ran that was etched under the ghostly light of the moon. "You have to believe, Ran."  
  
He smiled as the younger boy disengaged himself from his comforting hold.  
  
"You only have to believe."  
  
Ran gazed at him, his amethyst eyes beginning to show signs of life again.  
  
Then, he smiled.  
  
It was a miniscule smile, but a smile nonetheless.  
  
"Arigatou..." Ran whispered, touching his lean fingers with a warm, yet shaking hand. "Thank you."  
  
And in his heavy, problematic heart, Crawford found the strength to believe again.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * * 


	8. Chapter 7: Friends Who Could Ever Do Wi...

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Seven BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding parts... the Crashers too. ^_^;  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 7: Friends - Who Could Ever Do Without Them?  
  
"Fujimiya-san!"  
  
He had never seen such energetic person in his whole life.  
  
Chocolate colored locks bobbed up and down as athletic arms waved wildly. He was sure that he did not know who the person was, but he knew that he had seen him before. Ran stopped in his hunt for an unoccupied table in the cafeteria and turned to fully face the bouncy persona who popped suddenly in front of him, making him reel slightly back, making a slight show of juggling with the contents of his lunch tray.  
  
He blinked twice; cheeks stained a faint crimson at the scrutiny of young teal eyes, and the proximity of an athletic build nearly pressed against his own body.  
  
Suddenly, the eyes blinked, and the face leaning in towards his broke into one of the friendliest grins he had ever seen.  
  
"Fujimiya Ran?" The boy inquired, his eyes dancing with sheer happiness that resulted from something Ran could not even understand.  
  
"Aa..." He was still a bit dazed from being caught unaware, and he was trying to dredge up where he had seen the one who assaulted him before...  
  
"Hidaka Ken!" The boy's grin was impossibly wider. Ran swore that if it broadened into another notch, the features would split. "Pleased to meet you!"  
  
Ken bowed almost respectfully, and started pulling him towards who-knows- where. A vein popped from Ran's forehead. It was getting annoying.  
  
"Urusai." He said darkly, giving Ken's back a deadly glare.  
  
Ken turned in surprise, and his hand dropped from the hem of Ran's shirt to his sides. "Oi, don't be mad..."  
  
"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't get mad at you... I don't even know who you are, and you're pulling me off somewhere..."  
  
"But I told you already who I am! I'm -"  
  
"Yes, I know you're Hidaka Ken..." Ran grated out, exasperatedly, his dark gaze softening a bit from the look of puzzlement in Ken's teal eyes. "What I don't know is where you came from, and how you knew me."  
  
"Oh." Ken's cheek reddened as he realized his stupidity. "Well, Ehehe... I'm Ken - and you know that already... I'm Omi-chan's friend..."  
  
"Omi-chan?"  
  
"Ah, I mean, Tsukiyono Omi's friend... I live in the Sakura... and umm..." Ken, obviously nervous and trying to calm his nerves after receiving a death glare, stammered.  
  
"And you sound like a chicken."  
  
"And I sound like a chick - Youji!" Ken lost his air of fear and glared at a tall blond man carrying a leather flute case who was sauntering towards them.  
  
The newcomer who Kan had called Youji grinned lazily, his eyes surveying Ran's physique from head to toe, his eyes approving of his choice of clothes. "Fashionable... a bit on the conservative side, but still fashionable... amazing..." He extended his hand in a show of goodwill. "I'm Kudou Youji, at your service. You look much better up close than twenty meters away."  
  
Ran shifted his hold on his tray and took the hand somewhat reluctantly, shaking it slightly before letting go. "Fujimiya Ran." He gave him a small smile. So this is Kudou Youji. It was almost impossible to bear a grudge against this man... he was too much of a charmer that he can coax the skin off a snake - or from what he had heard of him, the panties off a lady. He had heard too much bed action from the few girls who seemed to have dated him to last him a lifetime. "How did you know who I was?"  
  
"Omittchi told us about you, you know, Omi... the boy with the irresistible big watery blue eyes that no one would dare to go against?"  
  
Ran was starting to warm up to Youji. He was somehow soothing, even with the predatory glint that seemed to be a part of his gaze already. "Aa... you're right about that. He's hard to contradict... he's too cute..."  
  
"I'm NOT cute!"  
  
The three who had been standing in the middle of the cafeteria turned and smiled fondly at the sight of a huffing Omi, his lips pouting and his eyes trying its best to give them a glare. Of course, the effect had not been what he expected - it made him look more childish than usual.  
  
"Omi, you're eating that?" Ken asked, obviously aghast as he surveyed the vast array of junk food deposited on the lunch tray. The only item that had some sort of nutritional value was a slice of cheesy and gooey pizza on a white plate.  
  
Omi lost his dark look and immediately beamed as his eyes fell on the huge piles of crackers, Pocky and chocolate bars on his red tray. "Yup, I sure will be eating all of these!"  
  
Youji rolled his eyes and snatched the tray from Omi's hands, holding it high over his head as the boy jumped repeatedly to reach his prized food source. "You're not eating this for lunch." The blond playboy declared firmly, motioning Ran to take the tray from him and place it somewhere else that Omi cannot reach. He readily complied, not approving the boy's meal himself. He stood on his tiptoes and took the tray from Youji.  
  
"Oh no, not you too, Ran-kun!" Omi protested, looking crestfallen now that ran had his food.  
  
Ran was almost moved to pity at the sight of the defeated teen looking at him with pleading blue eyes. Well, as said - ALMOST. He shook his head and fixed Omi with a level gaze. "I'll make a deal with you."  
  
Omi brightened at the prospect of having a chance to get back his food.  
  
"If you eat a healthy batch of food... and I mean a serving of those..." Ran motioned towards a huge plate of mixed vegetables and tofu meat delicacies intended for vegetarians that was sitting on the serving counter, with a flicker of his lavender eyes. "I'll give you your chocolate bars back."  
  
"Only the chocolate bars?" Omi asked with a small voice, gazing at the vegetables as if they were poison.  
  
"Okay, the chocolate bars and the pizza." Ran conceded.  
  
"What about my Pocky?" Omi protested, looking back up at him, seeming near tears.  
  
"I'm putting it on hold." Ken interjected smiling. "You'll get it if you promise to stop drinking cola for a whole week."  
  
"A WHOLE WEEK?" Omi nearly burst into tears. "But I can't -"  
  
"No buts." Ken grinned, his eyes dancing.  
  
Omi groaned, stepping up quickly into the cafeteria line again to get a hold of the vegetable and tofu dishes being served, muttering about the world being unfair to him, and his own friends deserting him.  
  
"Oh, there's Nagi. C'mon, let's go, my hands are cramped from carrying this tray around for too long." Ken said cheerfully, staring towards a long table where a familiar boy sat quietly.  
  
Youji took the tray from Ran with a grin and stood back to let Ran pass.  
  
Reluctantly, but with some measure of excitement, he followed Ken, realizing as he did, that he had somehow accepted them as his company. He smiled to himself as he remembered his father's words when he was young.  
  
/You will know who your friends are if your body responds positively towards them. Your friends choose you, and you do not choose them. /  
  
He set his tray across Nagi and sat gracefully, smiling as the boy looked up at him and gave him a shy smile.  
  
"Ran - san... ohayo." Nagi greeted him softly.  
  
"Ohayo, Nagi-kun." Ran smiled back. "How are you doing? You okay with Omi and cello?"  
  
Nagi's smiled widened a bit, as he nodded. "I'm getting better in playing the cello... Omi's a great instructor."  
  
Ran nodded, his eyes shifting towards a fast-approaching Omi who looked a bit green as he stared at what his new tray held. "Great to hear that." He scooted sideways, making room for Omi's sickly form.  
  
Nagi frowned, worried over the way his best friend looked, he gave a sideways glance at Ran, who just shrugged, making a show of applying himself to his lunch.  
  
Ran smiled to himself. It was a bit cruel, he knew, but someday, Omi will thank him for it.  
  
"So, Ran." Ken grinned, his eyes sparkling as he took a huge sip of his protein shake. "Tell us something about yourself."  
  
He immediately stiffened, voices shattering his fragile memories into a million tiny pieces...  
  
  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
"So... Ran... tell me something about yourself..."  
  
He could not stop himself from wincing at the futile attempt of his ravager to make casual conversation. He was still bound by long silk strips to the huge four-poster bed, and blood was literally trickling out of his body from his...  
  
"Aren't you going to answer me?"  
  
All Ran did was glare with overflowing menace. His lavender eyes screamed murder as he gazed with open contempt at the dark beady orbs.  
  
The heavyset man that was Takatori Reiji laughed, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing a ring of smoke on his pale face, sending him to bouts of coughing. "I pity you Ran, you've got great potential, and yet, here you are... so helpless..."  
  
"No thanks to you." He said scathingly, pulling at the strips of cloth impending his movement.  
  
Laughter.  
  
Cruel laughter.  
  
"Ah... at least now I know something about you..."  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
Takatori grinned at him evilly, his eyes glittering almost manically.  
  
"That you will love hating me your whole life."  
  
END FLASHBACK  
  
  
  
"Uh... Ran-kun?" Ken poked his ribs lightly, making him snap out of his reverie. The voice was almost hysterical, he noted, and he knew the boy had every right to be... after all, it's not everyday that one sees a person getting eerie over random things... "Are you alright? Did I say something wrong? Are you mad at me? Did I offend you with my question? I -"  
  
"I'm fine Hidaka-san." Ran said gently, his voice soothing the boy in a small measure. The boy suddenly stopped his barrage of questioning and his eyes widened into huge plates. "Hidaka-san? Heck, why are you calling me that? I'm not that old! Ken will do!" He grinned boyishly, taking a bite of his foot long hotdog. "Drop the honorific... it doesn't suit me!"  
  
Ran nodded, smiling at such display of careless youth. He noticed Youji's somewhat tender gaze on the hyperactive bundle of youth and smiled inwardly. /This is interesting.../  
  
"Ah, there they are!" Omi cried out happily, waving to someone behind Ran. "Finally! You're late!"  
  
"Sorry kleiner Junge, Crawfish was late."  
  
/That voice is quite familiar.../ He thought, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.  
  
"We're really sorry... Crawford woke up late and... What in the SEVEN HELLS is that?!"  
  
Ken guffawed at whatever the expression of the newcomer - no, newcomers were.  
  
"Eew Ken... gross!" Youji's nose scrunched up in distaste, his eyes twinkling at the prospect of teasing the boy again.  
  
Ran could almost hear his thoughts...  
  
"You don't have to rub it in."  
  
That single tone of voice rippled through his spine. He recognized the tone... the speed of communication... the...  
  
"Ran..."  
  
/The way he says my name.../  
  
It was unmistakable.  
  
It was Brad Crawford.  
  
* * *  
  
It was a shock for him to see Ran so soon, after what happened last night. However, he could not deny the coursing excitement and some other emotion he could not name.  
  
"Ran..." he murmured, in his own breathless way. He was rolling the name around his tongue, reveling in its aftertaste. He did not know why he was doing it... it was as if it came naturally.  
  
There was only one empty chair after Schuldig and Farfarello sat down with their grub - and as if heaven was conspiring against the two of them, it was directly in front of his point of obsession.  
  
"Crawford-san..."  
  
Beautiful... simply beautiful. Ran's voice has that haunting quality that leaves every person transfixed.  
  
"How are you doing?" He asked softly, deliberately conversing under his breath, isolating the two of them from the noise around them.  
  
"I - I'm fine... still - "  
  
"Still feeling alone, huh?" Crawford finished thoughtfully. "But did you act on it?"  
  
Ran looked crestfallen, and he felt sorry for him. He did not know of what had why he was crying last night, and still, at that moment, he did not... he desperately wanted to take him away from everything that was bothering him.  
  
He wanted to hear him laugh... he wanted to see a smile on his face every minute... he wanted to hear him talk...  
  
He wanted to hear him sing again.  
  
He was quite sure that the boy Professor De Vry had spoken of during composition class was Ran himself. The boy who wanted to hide his loneliness from the world and deliberately hiding who and what he was from the world... The boy who, even with immerse talents wouldn't sing because of a painful past...  
  
The boy who would not dare sing.  
  
He was so sure that he was the only one outside of the boy's family that had any idea of how beautiful his voice was - and he somehow knew that he was also the first person outside Ran's family who have heard him sing without any form of restraint.  
  
He wanted to hear it again.  
  
There was a tune in his head that beat at the same pace as the character in Ran's golden voice...  
  
"Iya, I did not." Ran spoke quietly after a long moment of silence. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It doesn't matter whether you act on it." Crawford smiled softly, his eyes glittering with something akin to tenderness. "As long as you believe that someone will always be there to guide you..."  
  
"Believe..."  
  
"Yes Ran... believe..."  
  
He saw the clearing of the momentary clouds in the boy's eyes. Yes, the boy was starting to believe in himself... and soon, he would unfurl to be one of the best.  
  
He will help him.  
  
He will take away the shadows that plagues Ran's psyche... the darkness in the otherwise untainted soul... protect him...  
  
Until...  
  
Crawford closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
He knew it was ridiculous to even think of it that way, but...  
  
He wanted to be the one to put the darkness to an end... the light prevailing... working for it until...  
  
Until he was one with him.  
  
He opened his eyes and met Ran's gaze.  
  
"Are you alright, Crawford-san?" Ran asked, concern marring his brows in a slight frown.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine." Crawford grinned, his chocolate eyes taking in the beauty of the person before him. "Come on, let's eat." He said as he speared a salad green with his fork.  
  
Ran smiled, applying himself to his own lunch.  
  
"Crawford-san..."  
  
He looked up questioningly.  
  
"I will always believe."  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! ^_^ Sorry for the delay, I had a compre exam and had to study for it... I promise to update real soon! ^_^ Well, how was this part, was it good enough? 


	9. Chapter 8: Confusion 101

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Eight BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding parts... the Crashers too. ^_^;  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 8: Confusion 101  
  
Ran stared hard at the features of Omi's friends.  
  
Hidaka Ken... Kudou Youji... He was sure that he had seen them before... but where?  
  
Suddenly, his eyes lighted on Omi who took out a paperweight from his duffel bag. It finally clicked.  
  
  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
"You should see him attack the Japanese sweets store near the university's back gates - he's going at it like -"  
  
"He's going at it like a rabbit in heat."  
  
"Yeah, he's going at it like rab - HENTAI!"  
  
Ran watched in rapt fascination as a chocolate-haired guy bonked a taller blonde-haired one on the head with a huge paperweight. "ITAI! Will you stop hitting me already? I just hit you once, and unintentionally at that, and still you continue on -"  
  
"Mou... that's because, Youji, you speak like sex is the only thing in your mind!"  
  
"But it IS one of the most prominent things in my mind!" The guy called Youji protested, trying to reason with the other boy.  
  
"HENTAI!"  
  
The cry started off another round of pummeling, and shouts of pain, as well as hate - coupled with embarrassment coming from the flustered Omi near Ran's shocked figure.  
  
"Uh... Ken-kun... will you please stop pounding Youji-kun? You'll cause him extensive brain damage... uh... and you... both have a new guy watching you... go at it like rab-"  
  
"Uh, Omi-kun... I don't think those were the right words to say..."  
  
There was an alarmed look in Ran's lavender eyes as he took in the sudden lapse in Ken's pounding. The gap was long enough for the dark-haired guy to let the words sink in his head, his cheeks redden further, and glower at the poor blonde cowering in front of him. It took all forty seconds for him to do that before -  
  
"What have you been teaching poor Omi-kun?" He raised a hand in preparation for a solid strike. "HENTAI!"  
  
"But I didn't do anything!"  
  
"HENTAI!"  
  
END FLASHBACK  
  
He shook his head slightly, a small smile starting at the edge of his red lips. His line of sight shifted, traveling on to Ken who was, as usual, bickering with Youji, who, in turn was doing nothing but grin like the lazy bum many testified he was. They were amusing.  
  
/I wonder if there is something between them... they look like an old married couple.../  
  
Suddenly, everyone was silent and doing nothing but stare dumbfounded at the smug features of the German, Schuldig.  
  
"Are you serious?" Omi's eyes were glittering with amazement and awe as he looked up almost servant-like at his friend. "They said you could..."  
  
"Of course, Omi-chan!" Schuldig grinned, tossing his shoulder-length auburn hair away from his cotton-swathed shoulder. "I'm a genius!"  
  
"So much for modesty." Farfarello quipped before taking a sip from his steaming coffee.  
  
  
  
Schuldig gave him his meanest glare. "Shut up Farf."  
  
"Okay, so what do you propose oh Great Schuldig?" Youji drawled teasingly, leaning back on his chair and placing his hands at the back of his head. "What's your master plan?"  
  
At the unconscious act, Ran saw Ken's cheeks redden, his eyes averting from a brief exploration of Youji's... interesting parts carved out of the clothes he was wearing.  
  
/Man, he has got it bad. / He thought, shifting his glance at the plateful of food still sitting untouched in front of him. He allowed himself a small smile.  
  
This, however did not seem to go unnoticed.  
  
Crawford was gazing at him with obvious interest. At the sight of the soft smile, he could not resist reaching out and touching the blood red strands that comprised of his ear tails.  
  
At the gentle ministration, all Ran could do was look up and stare at the American sitting so quietly across him. "Wha -"  
  
Crawford just smiled and shook his head, retrieving his wandering hand and applying himself to his food - which was also almost untouched on the table in front of him.  
  
There was something between the two of them that Ran could not understand - and neither could his counterpart. It was something strange... something...  
  
"And so, I propose a concerto!" The German crowed in obvious ecstasy.  
  
Silence.  
  
"THAT is your PLAN?" Ken asked incredulously.  
  
Schuldig nodded enthusiastically. "Ja! Isn't it great?"  
  
Youji finally composed himself and frowned contemplatively. "It's not that bad... however, with that concerto - aren't you just going to do something that is so sickeningly normal? I mean, you are just going to add more concertos from the long list this Conservatorium already has!"  
  
"A-a-ah!" Schuldig grinned mischievously. "Whoever said that it would be a normal concerto?"  
  
"I'm not sure I'm getting it, Schuldig-san..." Nagi said slowly, confusion and uncertainty becoming more pronounced now than ever.  
  
"Of course not liebe... I know you don't get it - no one can get it unless I tell what I'm thinking... after all, I'm a genius!" The words were followed by horrible self-centered laughter loud enough to rival the din in the cafeteria.  
  
Everyone except Ran and Farfarello sweatdropped, their lips twitching in embarrassment for Schuldig, and veins were popping from their forehead in sheer annoyance.  
  
"There he goes again." The Irish blond said much too calmly, sipping his second cup of steaming coffee. Ran sweatdropped. Farfarello was taking all these too calmly...  
  
Schuldig stopped his flow of laughter enough to glare with irritation at his best friend. After a short while...  
  
"NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  
  
Ran's amethyst eyes traveled towards the peeved form of Crawford, the obvious irk was on the set of his face, the frown on his forehead, and the forceful grip of two of his fingers on the bridge of his nose. Ran's lips stretched in a semblance of an amused smile and he looked around under his lashes.  
  
"Korosu" Ken uttered murderously as he glared irritably at his protein shake. "Korosu"  
  
Omi was smiling sheepishly, and upon catching Nagi's irritated frown, shrugged his shoulders, continuing to vent his irritation on the unresisting piece of poor tofu meat.  
  
Ran shook his head for the umpteenth time, wondering how he had ended having lunch with such a weird bunch.  
  
However... no matter how he berated himself for immediately fitting in... No matter how many times he chewed out his sense of judgment after shattering all those years of building an almost formidable emotional wall... he could not help but submit to the warmth he felt with these people.  
  
He felt as if he was transforming into someone who had died long ago... the one he had buried along with his most-loved family...  
  
Funny thing was...  
  
He felt good about it.  
  
So good.  
  
* * *  
  
"Okay, let me get this straight... you were asked to stage something for the upcoming music festival..."  
  
"Ja."  
  
"And you are proposing a concerto."  
  
"Ja."  
  
"And it's not just a concerto, but an uncommon one..."  
  
"Ja."  
  
Ken glared at him as he crossed his arms. "How do you propose you do that? And why does it have to include only us?"  
  
"Ja."  
  
"Schuldig!" He immediately blew the stray brown locks dangling and irritating the skin on his forehead. "Stop saying that! I am not asking you a yes or no question - I'm asking you a... a..."  
  
"A question." Youji finished for him, his eyes glittering mischievously at the sight of Ken all puffed up and huffing.  
  
Ken glared at him.  
  
"Oh, sorry." Schuldig cut in, smiling happily as he prepared his case. "I was just carried away."  
  
"That was too obvious, idiot." Crawford muttered under his breath. Fortunately, the German did not hear - or else, chaos would definitely ensue.  
  
"Okay, it goes like this..."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
"WHAT?!" Youji cried out after spurting the water he had just drank across the table. He did not pay heed to the glare Ran gave him as he patted the front of his shirt dry.  
  
/Tell me he is just kidding.../  
  
* * *  
  
/Will the dean even dare to let us perform those stints onstage - and in the Opera House at that? / Omi was having second thoughts about the whole thing. He caught the stiffening of all the people around him. /What if the administration grounds us? It would be our careers' end! /  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"But the Opera House is just for Classical concertos! We can't even step there with that plan of yours!" Ken argued; his eyes wide with obvious disbelief.  
  
* * *  
  
/Schuldig-san... that plan... it sounds great! Sugoi! / Nagi could not voice out his agreement when all were trying to stop the German from applying it. /Your plan would introduce diversity from the usual monotonous world we live in! /  
  
* * *  
  
Ran was surprised...  
  
Very much surprised...  
  
* * *  
  
Crawford could not move.  
  
/His plan sounded good but... what if we get penalized because of it? What about the owners of this institution? /  
  
* * *  
  
Farfarello raised an eyebrow.  
  
/This will be good. / He thought. /I wonder if .../  
  
* * *  
  
He got them, Schuldig knew.  
  
He knew that they would soon join him in his plans, no matter how opposed they are about it.  
  
It was simple, really. They should bring out their newest pieces that does not resemble any of the usual classical sounds... no copying of Bach of Schubert... nothing by Beethoven or Vivaldi...  
  
All their own pieces.  
  
That would shake the administration and the owners from their will to press and install in us only classical sounds...  
  
That would shake them into knowing that their laws are not always beyond contestation...  
  
That not all who pursue their studies in the Conservatorio de San Marco are programmed to obey their every unfair and demanding command...  
  
It would be for the sake of revenge...  
  
For all the time lost without learning the most important thing of all - to stand up alone and choose the musical path you belong.  
  
No more dictators to reprimand them for every diverse musical ideology.  
  
No more...  
  
Payback time...  
  
Takatori.  
  
* * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Hey guys, it's me again! ^_____^ I am sorry for the long overdue chapter, got a lot of things to do... so here it is! Reviews minna! ^_^ 


	10. Chapter 9: Dredging Up The Unconscious

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Nine BY: Simply Kim GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding parts... the Crashers too. ^_^;  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 9: Dredging Up the Unconscious  
  
"Farf, if I spend another minute in front of this piece of minuet, I'm gonna die!"  
  
Farfarello snickered and shook his head, fully amazed at how frustrated Schuldig was over an orchestra piece... and to think he was just studying it for a full five minutes...  
  
"Schu, you've only been in front of that for a few minutes, how could you ever get sick of the looks of it that easily?"  
  
Schuldig answered the question with a weary moan, his upper body slumping against his wooden study table. His hands gripped the edges of the flatboard and he immediately began ramming his head on the oaken surface.  
  
"Oi, don't get yourself killed - if you do, then I'll be left alone to take care of your project!" Farfarello cried out, bounding over to his friend, taking hold of his arms and pulling him away from the piece of offended furniture, effectively preventing the German from disabling himself.  
  
"Oh c'mon Farf, let me be in pain... it stimulates my brain cells!" He protested, his face contorted into a childish pout - a /weary/ childish pout. The blonde sighed, smiling softly as he ruffled Schuldig's already unruly hair.  
  
"You can't be in pain - I won't allow you to." He murmured, gazing fondly at the tired features.  
  
"Eh? You saying something Farf?" Schuldig asked, stopping mid-tirade, his emerald eyes searching the amused features, trying to find out what was going on behind the other's golden orbs.  
  
"No, nothing."  
  
Schuldig frowned in indecision. "Yeah, whatever." He sighed, turning back to the much-hated piece.  
  
Farfarello shook his head and walked away from him, stopping and looking back just as he reached the door. "I'll be going out for some grub, gail, want something?"  
  
"A nice dose of marijuana would do - unfortunately I don't smoke that stuff and I sure as hell don't want to start now... God, I hate my life... just bring me something you think I'll like..." Schuldig mumbled almost incoherently. "Wait..." He looked up, fixing the Irishman a confused look. "Who's Gail?"  
  
Farfarello grinned slyly. "You are."  
  
"Eh? My name's not that weird-sounding!" The redhead protested.  
  
"It means stranger in my native tongue... I called you that because you're acting like one a while ago."  
  
Schuldig gaped at him.  
  
The blond smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in absolute amusement. "Stop fussing over petty things - it doesn't become you." He said quietly before finally letting himself out of the door.  
  
The redhead left alone went into thinking... and immediately realized that Farfarello was right. He smiled fondly, remembering the name he was called with. "Gail... Hn. Well then..." He sat up straighter and frowned determinedly at his music exercise. "I wont be that anymore... I'm going to be myself - and do things MY way."  
  
* * *  
  
"I can't believe that Schu wanted us to participate in his program!" Omi cried out ecstatically. "I'm so nervous!"  
  
Nagi gave his best friend a nervous smile. He was not so sure that he was ready to perform in front of a million people. "Me too Omi-kun"  
  
"But?"  
  
"But... I am not sure I could perform in... front of a million people..."  
  
Omi smiled, unwrapping the plastic container of his beloved Snickers bar. "Of course you can - you're just nervous about it!"  
  
Nagi's gaze was pinned on the fast-diminishing bar that Omi was barbarically devouring. "Uh... Omi... didn't Ran-san told you to refrain from eating those?"  
  
The blond tore into the luscious chocolate and munched defiantly. "Yes he did - but I sneaked in some... heh, if I eat another of those icky tofu thingies again - I'm gonna cut his eartails off!" He yelled, pumping his free fist up into the air.  
  
"Really now."  
  
Omi yelped as a deep melodious voice countered his empty threat.  
  
"R - Ran-kun!" He breathed nervously. "Ah... heh-heh... umm... hello - what are you doing here?"  
  
"I was on my way to get a pad of new music sheets in my room - Farfarello-san said that Schuldig-san needed it." Ran cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Then I heard what you said..."  
  
"Ehehe... it was just a joke!" Omi squeaked, backing away, clutching the remnants of his chocolate bar. "Eep!"  
  
Fortunately for him, before Ran could catch up to his darting form, a deep voice called out from underneath Omi's window. The three boys stopped, obviously confused, and slowly inched their way to the silky draperies that swung with the soft breeze. Peeking through, they saw a very amused Crawford leaning back against something black... something that looked like...  
  
Then all three of the spectators gasped, unable to put the panic out of their voice. The black thing Crawford was leaning on was a bike - a ruined bike. The soles of Crawford's Dr. Martens were caked with mud, and his foot was resting on the silvery finish of Ken's most prized possession - a sleek Ducati that he won from the lottery. The finish, which was then polished to loving perfection, was now muddy, and a few strips of dehydrated grass was sticking to the clumps of dirt.  
  
Nagi's only reaction was a pale face and a slights shiver down his spine. Ran was close to panicking. If not for his overgrown sense of control, he would have shrieked right then and throw himself down the window. He had seen enough lumps on Youji's now-lopsided (his paperweight bruises are still healing) head to realize what crossing Ken would lead to... in his calculations... well... it's not very promising. However, in contrast to the other two, Omi was a lump of freakishness. He was screaming his head off, ranting about what would happen to them the time Ken sees the damage to his worshipped possession.  
  
"We're gonna DIE!" Omi shrieked, throwing up his hands in the air and running around like a headless chicken, stopping only to pant for exactly five seconds, and then resume his panicking again. "He's gonna SHI-NE us to the next millennium!"  
  
At the words, Ran couldn't help but fall into a twitching lump on the floor.  
  
INTERMISSION:  
  
RAN: Hey, isn't that supposed to be my script?  
  
AUTHOR: Eh?  
  
RAN: C'mon, you know, the SHI-NE thing...  
  
AUTHOR: * scratches head in confusion *  
  
RAN: * vein popping out of forehead, a crazed look on his face * don't play games with me! You know perfectly well what I'm talking about! The Shi-NE lines are all mine... MINE! BWAHAHAHA!  
  
AUTHOR: * sweatdrop *  
  
BRAD: Hey, have you seen Ran?  
  
AUTHOR: * eyes wide * * points to an insanely laughing Ran * There he is...  
  
BRAD: * gives a sweet smile * Thanks. * Proceeds to drag Ran outside the room *  
  
AUTHOR: Uh... Crawford-san?  
  
BRAD: Yeah? * Looks back *  
  
AUTHOR: Is he alright? He seemed out of it... umm... unstable...  
  
RAN: * repeating words, voice gaining momentum before lapsing into crazed laughter again * SHI - NE! That's my line... Not Omi's, not Ken's... MINE! ONLY MINE! Only I have the power to utter that powerful word! Bwahahahaha!  
  
BRAD: * smiles proudly as he looks lovingly at Ran * He's alright.  
  
AUTHOR: Umm... * skeptical * REALLY?  
  
BRAD: Yup! He's fine whenever he's like that - if he doesn't utter anything about killing Takatori-san and say his famous "SHI-NE" one-liner, that's when I worry...  
  
AUTHOR: * falls to a twitching lump on the floor *  
  
END INTERMISSION  
  
He sounds like Ken-kun's a lunatic! Ran thought, his mind conjuring up an image of a towering Ken, his eyes spewing forth balls of fire, and his teeth pointed and bared, closely resembling a huge closet monster. He sweatdropped, shaking his head multiple times to get rid of the tremendously ghastly and disturbing picture. Ken is not really like that, right? He bit his lower lip in worry. He was thinking about the possible harm Ken would probably deal the older American. "Hey, Ran! Let's go! Schuldig might have killed himself out boredom by now!" Crawford called out for the second time. Without another word, the redhead flew out of the door, rushing straight to his room, snatching the pile of paper sitting on top of his study table, and finally running down the carpeted hallway in rapid succession. He was out of the door and grabbing Crawford from his perch faster than before anyone would say 'Ducati' in perfect Italian. He paid no heed, not minding the cries of protest from the American, never once relinquishing the tight grasp he had until they finally made it in front of Richter Hall, Schuldig's Dormitory. Once inside the elevator, he finally let out his breath, panting loudly as if the world had just challenged him in a worldwide marathon.  
  
Crawford too was in a similar shape; being dragged unwillingly by a person whose speed rivaled that of a Ferrari racer, and whose legs were quite as enduring. His eyes traveled down the sleek and shapely form that was visible with the help of semi-tight, low-slung jeans. His eyes trekked the exposed lower abs, which was currently a sight to behold, since it was nearly unclothed, since Ran's shirt had ridden up courtesy of the strong whipping breeze. If only he could touch...  
  
Crawford gulped, his eyes traveling straight up, taking note of the sensual way that Ran's chest heaved with every panting breath, the swan-like forehead that arched deliciously as he leaned his head back against the wall of the elevator, and the amethyst eyes that had suddenly snapped open to look directly at his dark-brown orbs, who by now was tinted such that it was bordering at the edge of pure gold. Surprised at the questioning intensity the gem-like eyes presented, he instinctively stepped back.  
  
"Uh... Crawford-san?" Ran asked, tilting his head to one side, deliberating on what was happening to his new friend. "Daijoubu?"  
  
Crawford couldn't answer him. He couldn't understand what Ran was asking... His Japanese was rusty, and he was by no means interested in engaging in language lessons, which would probably fill the time vacant after dropping the vocalization course given him by the administration for the sole reason that he's no good at it.  
  
"Uh..." He murmured, knocking once on his temple in a show of confusion. "Come again?"  
  
By then, Ran was absolutely mortified. He wanted to stuff a sock on his pea-sized brain. How could he have forgotten that Crawford doesn't understand Japanese? He sighed, not knowing how to deal with the awkward situation. "Uh, go - umm... I mean, sorry... I was just asking if you're alright... you looked a little green just a while ago..."  
  
"Oh, heh-heh... I'm fine, just... aroused... um, no, ROUSED... erm... from, umm... my... umm..."  
  
"Perverted thoughts."  
  
"Yes, perverted thoughts... eh?" Crawford looked straight at the elevator door, which was by then gaping open. "Hey, MY THOUGHTS ARE NOT PERVERTED, YOU DOPE!" He yelled with indignation, his fist waving in front of him with irritated force.  
  
An amused Farfarello was smirking at the American, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed the crimson flooding the already pink cheeks. "Yes you are." He said calmly, knowing that it would send his friend defending his momentarily shattered dignity.  
  
"Am not!" Crawford scowled, his golden brown eyes shooting darts of irritation at the Irishman. The blond, however, was unperturbed. He only raised a golden eyebrow and turned to an embarrassed Ran.  
  
"See how he is?" He declared, gesturing at the other who was simmering with renewed discomfiture, while keeping a slender finger pushed on the 'open' button of the elevator's controls. "You'd better be careful around him, he's not stable. He's an all-around pervert."  
  
If looks could kill, Farfarello would probably be down in a slush of peach and scarlet. Ran, however, turned as red as his hair, taking small embarrassed glances at Crawford, wondering if what Farfarello said was true... after all, he had just known the American for about two weeks... and he would have to admit, that he isn't exactly the best judge of character when it comes to people the same age as he was.  
  
Crawford would have retorted something for his defense, when, fortunately, Schuldig's haphazard figure appeared. "What took you so long?" He asked in a ragged voice, his eyes drooping dangerously, teetering to the edge of sleep. "I thought you've all died out on me on the way here! Besides, you're holding up the elevator."  
  
"Holding up the elevator?" Ran asked, confused. Schuldig gave him a tired smile and pointed to the small television that was currently showing the state the lobby was in. People were standing, waiting for the only available elevator in the dormitory. The line extended to the lounge near the front doors.  
  
"MADRE DE DIOS! WHO THE FUCK IS HOLDING UP THE ELEVATOR ON THE SIXTH FLOOR? OI, PA?ERO, GET OUT OF THERE, PRONTO! " An exasperated, and very angry shout of complaint resonated around them.  
  
Ran winced, and hurriedly stepped out of the elevator, followed quickly by Crawford, then Farfarello. Schuldig pressed his fingers on his temple in weariness, and gave them all a sly smile. "You put me in deep shit."  
  
"In a what?" Crawford asked, his eyes straying curiously at his friend as he made his way towards the sliding glass doors of Schuldig's unit. "Why? They don't know who you are."  
  
Schuldig gave a great sigh and shook his head. "Take a look around you, Brad, No one's in this floor except me! I told you that two years ago - or don't you remember?"  
  
"No one's here except you for two years?" Ran asked, mystified. "Yup, left me after they graduated two years ago. Not many European students live in this dorm, I don't know why though."  
  
"But there are so many people outside!"  
  
"They live on the lower floors. No one wants to be stuck in this creepy floor."  
  
"Creepy?" The redhead couldn't help thinking that the people living there were too old to believe in ghosts. He removed his shoes as he entered the huge unit. "Why so?"  
  
"Someone died in this floor months after the others graduated." Schuldig revealed, his eyes darkening. "They say she's haunting the place, especially room 613."  
  
Farfarello's eyes misted for a while, giving Ran the impression that they both knew who died back then - and were good friends with that person too.  
  
"Gomen."  
  
Farfarello looked at him strangely, and blinked back obvious tears. He was muttering something that sounded like 'She always used to say that when she was alive... If only I know what that meant...'  
  
"English, Ran, we cannot understand you much when you speak your native tongue, remember?" Schuldig chided him, holding out his hand for the music sheets, which Ran dutifully handed out.  
  
"Uh, I said... umm... sorry."  
  
"That's alright." The German grinned, the tiredness in his eyes gone as he faced the harpsichord with renewed vigor. "Well, come on, let's get this thing going!" He cried out, pumping his fist energetically in the air.  
  
"Really Schu, you should try not to act so hyper all the time, you might scare Ran off." Crawford reprimanded him playfully.  
  
"Really now, Crawfie? At least I'm not having perverted thoughts about him!" He fired back.  
  
Ran was, again, turning red from obvious embarrassment and confusion.  
  
However, as for Farfarello, he just stood there, his face curiously blank, his mind screaming one word...  
  
'Sorry... she said she was sorry...'  
  
Those words...  
  
They hurt.  
  
* * *  
  
Omi was currently deviating a plan on how to escape to Siberia when Ken banged open the door and growled, his eyes flashing with pure evil, that one would think he had been possessed by the devil himself.  
  
"WHO DAMAGED MY PRISTINELY BEAUTIFUL MOTORCYCLE?"  
  
Nagi cringed at the volume of the angry voice, his eyes straying towards Omi, who was doing his best to huddle in the dim part of the room where he thought he couldn't be seen. He couldn't help thinking that there was no place in the room where one cannot be seen.  
  
The overhead lights were turned on all the time.  
  
"Uh, ohayo, Ken-kun... umm... Ehehe..."  
  
Omi was inching his way towards where Nagi sat quietly as Ken took menacing steps his way.  
  
Nagi was sorely tempted to tell the truth, that it was Crawford who had done it, but he couldn't. Friends protect friends - even if the one affected was a friend too, Omi had said half an hour before.  
  
Sometimes, he couldn't understand his friend's sense of rationality.  
  
He kept his mouth shut, his hands finding Omi's at last as the golden- haired lump of energy reached his side, senses alerted, waiting for the moment Ken would strike.  
  
"Oi, easy there ken-ken, you can always clean it up again!" Youji, who arrived just in time to see Ken's menacing steps, frantically hurled himself between the angry teen and the much younger ones who needed his protection.  
  
"Youji-kun..." Nagi muttered, almost panicking as Ken took another step, unperturbed by the fact that someone taller, older, and much more experienced in fighting than him was hindering his revenge. He will get the evil man who tainted the purity of his beloved Ducati!  
  
"I know, I know..." Youji muttered back, his eyes straying to the whimpering features of Omi, and the pale face of Nagi. "I know what to do." He said, softly, careful not to let Ken hear. "Nagi, grab a tight hold on Omi's hand, Omi, straighten yourself, and be prepared." As he said this, he grabbed hold of Nagi's slender wrist, his eyes calculating the length of the space between them and the wide open doors.  
  
"Korosu!" Ken said, popping the joints of his knuckles in a motion of wrath. "I'm gonna kill whoever did that... K'so!" He swore, his eyes narrowing into thin slits as the three inched towards the direction of the door.  
  
When they were but a few inches from the wooden wings of freedom...  
  
"NOW!"  
  
With a forceful yank, he ran out of Omi's room, and straight to the flight of stairs beckoning to be used. The two were dragged with him, running as fast as their legs could carry them, leaving behind Ken's mad scream.  
  
"SHI-NE! OMAE KOROSU!"  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Crawford was studying the face before him intensely.  
  
Crimson tresses rivaling the color of blood, lips the hue of ripe strawberries shimmering under the midday sun, lashes the color of the most exotic wine, skin as pale as alabaster... soft as the finest silk.  
  
Marvelous...  
  
It was the only word he could think of at the moment to describe the beauty of the boy slumbering before him.  
  
They were in Schuldig's room, and Ran was down for the count, finally closing his lashes as the clock chimed eight in the evening. He was helping all three of them in organizing the whole concerto, making sure that the harpsichord was in the right tune, made them an afternoon snack that consisted of weird-looking rice balls that looked quite unappetizing, but turned out to be good, making them stuff themselves with the culinary masterpiece silly.  
  
He smiled softly, running a finger lightly on the amazingly smooth and supple cheek. His smile widened adoringly as Ran murmured something in his sleep and proceeded to shiver slightly as the finger stroked his skin.  
  
Crawford shook his head in amazement.  
  
/Sensitive to the merest touch - I wonder how he is in the arms of passion.../  
  
He frowned at the thought, remembering Farfarello's allegation before that he was thinking perverted thoughts. /I'm not thinking perverted.../ Then, his eyes widened. /I WAS thinking perverted thoughts.../  
  
Shaken, he turned back to the sleeping boy. "Perverted... it's not perverted... that sounds so dirty." He murmured, his fingers combing through the blood-colored hair. "I was thinking..."  
  
He leaned in and laid his lips lightly on the slightly parted lips.  
  
He could feel the gush of breath from the warm mouth under his, the breath that was somehow being transferred to him through the minute ritual he was performing.  
  
The lips were soft... like rose petals in their blooming days.  
  
/I was thinking.../  
  
He finally let go, and straightened up, his eyes gazing tenderly at the focal point of his currently burgeoning emotions.  
  
"I wasn't thinking perverted thoughts... I was thinking... passionate thoughts."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
"Ran-kun and Crawford-san owes us a full lunch." Omi muttered darkly as he scrubbed vigorously on a grass stain on the metallic finish of Ken's motorcycle. The poor lighting was making his eyes sting, for it was already eight in the evening. Ken had driven the motorcycle through a series of mud splashes, and, finally, at exactly seven, he returned with a ruined contraption, ordering the three of them to clean it for him.  
  
Ken was a cruel, cruel man.  
  
"I second that." Youji muttered just as darkly. "And a pack of cigarettes for getting me to trouble too."  
  
Nagi did not need to say anything. He just continued his chores without any semblance of sound except a frustrated sigh as he scrubbed at one particularly stubborn splatter of icky mud.  
  
Ken had caught them after all...  
  
  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
They were at the lobby of their dorm and were breathing hard from the exertion. They finally escaped Ken!  
  
Omi was all smiles, grateful for another chance to live, Nagi was still pale, but a hint of redness marked his cheek, probably from running to fast, and Youji was laughing as he thought of the fact that they outrun Ken that time.  
  
They were breathing sighs of obvious relief when they heard the elevator doors open with a melodious ding.  
  
"Going somewhere, minna?"  
  
Their eyes widened, almost popping out of their sockets. Slowly, they turned around.  
  
"You forgot the elevators." Ken grinned manically, stepping out of the elevator with renewed vengeance. "Never thought I could catch up, didn't you?"  
  
With a sharp cry, Youji, Omi and Nagi ran straight out the building doors and towards the parking lot where Youji kept his beloved Seven.  
  
Youji swore he forgot something, but he couldn't remember what it was. It was only when he tried opening Seven's doors, when he remembered what was missing.  
  
His...  
  
"Looking for this?" Ken, who was towering over them, jingling the keys he held in his hand.  
  
"IYA!!!"  
  
END FLASHBACK  
  
"Ran-kun..." Omi sighed, remembering the panicked look in the redhead's eyes when he realized that Crawford was in trouble. "I hope you're having a good time now, or else, our troubles would be futile."  
  
"Tell me about it." Youji agreed, nodding his head as he wiped soapsuds on his cheeks. Youji got the information out of Omi as they started the strenuous cleaning. Frankly, he was happy for Ran, the guy sure needs something to keep his eyes burning bright, instead of the sadness that seemed to linger in the amethyst gaze all the time. "But they still owe us lunch."  
  
/Friends.../ Nagi thought. /Ran-san... the things we do for you.../  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Ran was confused.  
  
He was dreaming, he knew, but the fragments seemed all too real...  
  
/Did Crawford really kiss me? /  
  
He considered the possibilities... however, he came up with nothing.  
  
/Nah - maybe I am really just dreaming.../  
  
And if he was... there was a part of him that he felt wanted it to be true...  
  
/Crawford-san.../  
  
* * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Yay! My final exams are over! I finally had the sense to continue this as soon as possible! And... TADA! Here it is! ^^ Hope you like it people! Reviews! Reviews! ^^ 


	11. Chapter 10: Recollections of the Past Vi...

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Ten  
  
BY: Simply Kim  
  
GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding parts... the Crashers too. ^_^;  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
NOTES: This part has Farf-Schu and Youji-Ken moments. The latter part's a bit Crawford-centric, but has some Brad-Aya moments for your enjoyment! Oh, yeah, btw, this thing: (~*~), heralds Crawford's visions and recollections! Enjoy!  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 10: Recollections of the Past... Visions of the future  
  
  
  
"AAAAAARGH!"  
  
The lone frustrated cry was enough to lure Farfarello from the depths of his sleep. He immediately got up, opened the door and ran towards the bathroom. What he saw sent him in fits of...  
  
"Ahahahaha!"  
  
Laughter.  
  
"Schu, what the heck are you doing?"  
  
Schuldig looked tearfully up at him, his eyes watery and his lips set in a painful pout. He was shivering and his hands were shaking as he tried to squeeze out the last of his toothpaste from the tube. Unfortunately, he ended up with his butt on the floor and the tube of toothpaste flat in his hands with a millimeter of cream just spouting from its ravaged rim.  
  
"I'm trying to get the last of the toothpaste out..." Schuldig griped, sighing, obviously defeated. "I was about to brush my teeth..."  
  
Farfarello grinned as he leant him a hand. His arms went under the German's clothes-less arms, pulling him up and settling him on his feet. "And you wanted to dive into the bathroom floor for us to find you unconscious and pity you."  
  
"Oi, you're not being fair! I DID slide in - accidentally!" Schuldig protested, his cheeks turning crimson, as Farfarello got too close for comfort, his breath hot on the side of his face, and hands clamping almost tenderly on his sides.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I believe you mavourneen." The blonde whispered almost inaudibly. "If I didn't I wouldn't help you now, would I?"  
  
The words had their effect, and sure enough, his skin was tinted a deep red from embarrassment and, well... he did not want to analyze everything now, it's better that he did not know what the queasy feeling in his stomach meant. He just nodded, not entirely trusting his ability to speak, and looked up at his best friend.  
  
Golden irises gazed at him, emanating something he could not grasp fully.  
  
"I..." He started, unable to look away.  
  
Farfarello raised an expectant eyebrow. "Yes?"  
  
"Uh... nein, nein." Schuldig finally escaped from the golden depths when the Irishman blinked. He steadied himself and broke away from his hold; fiddling with the empty tube of toothpaste he had unknowingly been clutching the whole disorienting exchange.  
  
With a chuckle, Farfarello stepped closer, and with his pale knuckles, brushed away the spot of toothpaste on his blushing cheek. Then, as condescending as the gesture may seem, he laid his other hand on the mass of unruly auburn hair, pressing down slightly. "C'mon, stranger, let's go get breakfast." With that, he was out, leaving the German gazing after him with utter loss in his Jade eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
"Ran..."  
  
Placing a pillow on his face, Ran groaned, immediately turning away from the direction where the voice came from. "Five minutes more, Aya- chan."  
  
The mention of the familiar name ensured momentary silence... then, the call was repeated, slightly louder this time.  
  
"Ran..."  
  
The redhead gripped the pillow tighter as he felt someone tugging the soft intoxicating mass from him. "Aya-chan, don't be so stubborn, just go downstairs and leave me alone..." He moaned, obviously irritated. "Let me get back to sleep..."  
  
"Ran, get up... Ran..."  
  
He let out a wail of frustration, and threw his precious pillow at the persistent person trying to get him out of bed. "Go away..."  
  
"Ra - mmmpft!" Then came a crashing noise as the projectile connected. "Ouch!" Came the deep exclamation.  
  
Half asleep, Ran let out a chuckle of triumph, finally subduing the deep tones of his sister...  
  
/Deep tones/ of his sister?  
  
Surprise wreaking havoc inside his semi-functioning brain, he abruptly sat up and cast a glance around him. /This isn't my bed.../ He thought in absolute horror. /I remember falling asleep in Schuldig-san's bed... and then, the umm... DREAM, which I have a feeling isn't exactly one, and then, someone lifting me up and -/  
  
A muffled groan erupted from the floor beside the bed he was on. Seconds later, he almost fell off in shock as ten slender fingers came out of nowhere and gripped the edge of the mattress. Then, to his dismay, a familiar face showed appeared.  
  
"KYA! CRAWFORD-SAN! GOMEN NASAI!"  
  
* * *  
  
Ken was a cruel, cruel man.  
  
That, Youji was sure of as he scrubbed off the last mud spot he could find. It was already morning, and he was robbed of sleep, crediting it to his heroic tendencies, which resurfaced when he let Nagi and Omi up to their rooms to get a night's rest.  
  
He's going to be fine, he said.  
  
/Fine, my foot. /  
  
He thought of ways on how to get back at Ken - after wringing Crawford and Fujimiya's neck. He sighed. Who was he kidding? He couldn't even kill a cockroach to save his life, what more people?  
  
He was so goddamned sleepy... he knew he couldn't make it up to his room without falling asleep in the middle of the hallway. He must make a makeshift bed... he sighed in gratitude to the big guy above as he spied a couple of crates lining the side of the garage. They were dirty, he knew, but at least he'll get some rest, right?  
  
He set the soiled bucket down and threw the even more soiled rag at the far end of the garage, careful not to let it land on someone else's possession. He quickly bounded over towards the crates and pushed them that they were side by side, rubbing his hands in anticipation of a well- deserved rest. With a grateful moan, he plopped down, his shin connecting with the jutting edge of the larger crate. He did not pay the instantaneous pain any heed. All he cared for was that he's going to have his precious beauty sleep - and that's that.  
  
As soon as his head fell in contact with the rough wooden surface, he fell into deep slumber.  
  
* * *  
  
Ken was worried.  
  
/Where the heck is that baka? / He thought anxiously. /Baka, Youji no baka! /  
  
Last night, he had sneaked into both Nagi's room and Omi's to check on them if they're already asleep. They were there, as he knew they would. He had not expected them to be up all night just to clean and oil his motorcycle. He told himself that he should just finish up whatever it is they had left off.  
  
As he gazed at them, feeling guilt seep into his senses as he walked from one to the other, feeling even more remorseful as he remembered the unwashed dirt on their faces while they slept in their own respective rooms.  
  
He remembered making his way to Youji's place, the poor victim of circumstance, peeping in carefully, only to realize that no one was signed in. He had credited it to the older man's penchant of going to downtown bars far from the Conservatorio.  
  
It was only when he woke up in the morning that he realized that he has the keys to Youji's Seven, so he must not have been out partying. So, where was he?  
  
He quickly slipped on his jacket, minding the cold that was brewing outside. His resolve was clear. He had to find Youji, no matter what the cost!  
  
Without even a backward glance, he grabbed his keys and his wallet, and headed determinedly towards the dormitory's garage.  
  
* * *  
  
"Crawford-san... I'm really sorry... please, don't be mad at me..."  
  
If in other circumstances, Crawford would have walloped the poor guy the moment he had straightened himself after the hard blow. However, with Ran making those apologetic faces at him... he doubted that he would do so.  
  
The guy was simply too cute to bear a grudge with.  
  
He sighed, rubbing his aching temple. He had managed to collapse and take his precious table lamp with him - it hit him on the temples - hard. "I'm not mad, Ran." He murmured finally, as he drove to a stop in front of the Sakura Dormitories.  
  
It was a rather long walk from his own dorm, and he isn't exactly stable, so he opted to drive the redhead home. He sighed again for the umpteenth time as the other gave him a small sheepish smile.  
  
Crawford found himself smiling back.  
  
He opened the door and was about to get out of the driver's seat when something blocked his sight. It wasn't anything opaque, it was more like a recollection... however, he was sure that he had not been in the particular situation before... or had he?  
  
  
  
(~*~)  
  
"Don't stop until I tell you to!"  
  
"I cannot hold on anymore!"  
  
"We're going to make it... if we don't do this, they'll get us for sure!"  
  
"Niichan... *pant* my heart... Itai..."  
  
"Aya!"  
  
There was a flurry of footsteps. The boy dragging his sister knew they had been spotted. He had stopped to tend to the fallen girl, intending to just carry her - even with his injuries.  
  
It was too late.  
  
There was the reverberating scream of a loaded gun matching with an agonized shriek of a person in extreme pain.  
  
The boy's eyes were blank. There was the steady flow of warm blood gushing down his pale arms.  
  
He murmured something unintelligible.  
  
Feeling an instantaneous slide of steel against his forehead, he slowly looked up at the gun pointed smack between his eyes.  
  
A stout man in his prime was saying something... obviously sneering at the boy with newfound interest.  
  
"KISAMA!" The boy growled, dropping the lifeless body of his sister and lunging angrily at the gloating murderer. "... DIE!" A leather belt materialized from nowhere and looped around the boy's neck, choking him as it was pulled back.  
  
The elder man laughed manically, his eyes glinting with pure evil...  
  
  
  
(~*~)  
  
"Crawford-san? Crawford-san, can you hear me? Are you alright?"  
  
It took all of Ran's energy to actually shake the older man free of whatever it was that bothered him.  
  
Crawford finally snapped out of his visions when a palm connected solidly against his cheek, rendering the slightly tanned skin an angry crimson. He looked down with startled eyes at the worried amethyst orbs and gave a shaky smile. "Oh, sorry... I just spaced out." He rubbed his nape wearily, moving away from his side toward Ran's opening the door for him absently.  
  
He felt Ran's concerned gaze as the latter got out.  
  
"Crawford-san, are you sure you're alright? You look kind of pale..."  
  
It took all his patience for him to answer the younger boy without blowing up. He couldn't understand it, but there was definitely something that changed in him in the aftermath of his vision. His patience seemed shorter, and his mind unstable. He shook his head slightly and patted Ran almost condescendingly on the shoulder. "I'm fine. Just go home and get some rest, you're too drained out that you're imagining things."  
  
Ran's amethyst eyes narrowed, and on a childish impulse, he stuck out his tongue and started towards the huge oaken doors. Just as he stepped on the welcoming carpet, he turned back, a huge, rare smile painting his features, rendering him almost unearthly in the morning light, that Crawford had to hold his breath as if seeing something worthy of worship.  
  
"I had a great time, Crawford-san... see you on the next planning hours!" At that, he gave a vague wave and entered the dormitory, leaving the American standing immobile, a ghost of a wistful smile on his lips.  
  
* * *  
  
"We have good news sir!" A bespectacled middle-aged man came rushing through the swinging lab doors.  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"The experiment was a success!"  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
He could not believe his eyes.  
  
He rubbed them with renewed vigor just to see if whet he was currently staring at was reality.  
  
It was.  
  
Kudou Youji was sleeping like a log on two dirty crates of uneven sizes.  
  
And his motorcycle was as pristine as when he last cleaned it.  
  
There were tears in his eyes as he padded towards the sleeping boy, knowing that the blonde had sacrificed his night's rest to relieve Omi and Nagi, and clean his most prized possession. It was too much.  
  
All the guilt flowed out of him through the stream of involuntary tears that dripped steadily down his cheeks as he knelt beside the crates where Youji was in deep slumber. He reached out and wiped away a trail of mud from the aristocratic forehead, careful not to wake him up.  
  
However, Youji, a buoyant sleeper with a rise in the level of his exhaustion, immediately felt the gentle slide of work-roughened fingers, rousing him from his comforting dreams. His eyes fluttered open and gazed sleepily at watery brown orbs looking down at him in awe and something he couldn't quite put his fingers into.  
  
"Ken." He slurred, yawning widely. "What are you doing here? I thought you have a morning shift in the campus coffee shop?"  
  
Ken could not answer him without giving away what he was feeling. So, instead of voicing out whatever he was thinking, he threw himself into Youji's arms and held onto him tight.  
  
Of course, the blonde was surprised, but that initial shock faded as he felt something tug at his heartstrings. "Oi, Kenken, don't be like that, I already finished cleaning up, see?" He looked at his magnificent handiwork and grinned proudly. "It's the first time I cleaned something aside from my car."  
  
Tears.  
  
Hidaka Ken was crying.  
  
He was saturating Youji's mud-splattered shirt, and was getting his cheeks dirty in the process, but he did not care. He was thankful... and guilty of submitting his friends - most of all Youji in cleaning torture.  
  
Youji hated work - but he made an exception when he cleaned the motorcycle, knowing that he could easily avoid doing it by simply walking away. He felt... special.  
  
"Oi, why are you crying?" Youji struggled to sit up; pulling Ken into his arms, rubbing his back to somehow alleviate whatever pain the younger boy was feeling. "Yamero, Onegai... crying your lungs out doesn't become you."  
  
Sniffling, he buried his face deeper into the dirty shit of the person he was clinging helplessly to, and finally, after a few moments of complete silence, he sighed and uttered the only word he could conjure in his present disoriented state.  
  
"Arigatou."  
  
And for Youji, all that he had gone through was worth it.  
  
* * *  
  
Crawford couldn't work.  
  
He was staring for the past three hours at his empty music sheet, waiting for some semblance of inspiration to come.  
  
Nothing.  
  
With a frustrated yell, he got up and threw the music sheets in the air, watching is satisfaction as the pale pages fluttered around him like birds in playful flight. With a muttered curse, he shuffled towards his bed and plopped down, snuggling against the downy pillows in an effort to console himself.  
  
He was feeling weird.  
  
It was as if visions plagued his mind after a thousand years of imprisonment. The problem was, even if he could control them most of the time, there were some who managed to disturb him enough for him to temporarily lose his hold on his sanity.  
  
He had retched the afternoon off in his bathroom in the aftermath of a bloody vision.  
  
He had seen the same pudgy man he envisioned earlier when he was with Ran. The man was still holding a gun, and his hands were covered with sticky, dripping blood. That was not the end of it. He saw himself, younger than usual, laughing hysterically with the cruel male... and he too was covered with blood.  
  
Crimson tides crashed around him, and then that recollection again...  
  
The person, who looked exactly like him when he was younger, was with the others, chasing after a boy and his obvious sister. His lips were cracked open with a smile, and enjoying the chase to the fullest, holding a heavy .99 in his able-looking hand. The shadows moved with him, and he had managed to get near the targets when the girl fell, taking her brother with her.  
  
He heard the cruel laughter...  
  
Then the single gunshot...  
  
The scream...  
  
And the person who looked just like him towered over them, his face hidden in the shadows, the carbine of gun smoking in the darkness.  
  
Crawford couldn't shake the feeling of dread that laced through him. He felt dirty. Nausea threatened to overcome his fragile senses, but he managed to get it in control.  
  
What if he was that person?  
  
What if...  
  
What if he had killed someone before?  
  
He couldn't really remember doing so... he doesn't want to remember.  
  
He was a good boy - he obeyed his elders to the core.  
  
So, who was the person in his vision... the one who looked exactly like him?  
  
What if?  
  
He closed his eyes wearily.  
  
A distinct smell assaulted his senses... something sweet and spicy at the same time. He flipped himself over, that he was lying prone on the majestic bed. He buried his face against the comforting sheets, his arms closing around a familiarly soft pillow.  
  
The soft mattress muffled his chuckle. It was the same pillow Ran had thrown at him this morning. The scent was still there, getting stronger as he pulled himself up, his face settling on the clump of pillows Ran laid his tired head on.  
  
He inhaled deeply.  
  
"Ran..." He murmured softly, closing his eyes as the scent made itself to be known as a mixture of the younger boy's cherry shampoo, yummy Ivory soap, and something uniquely his.  
  
"Ran..."  
  
He suddenly felt drowsy. His eyes fluttered close, fingers gripping the memorable pillow, a wistful smile on his lips, his features finally at peace.  
  
Just before he fell asleep, a detail of the person being chased in his vision flashed in his blurred mind.  
  
The boy had purple eyes.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
A/N: YAY!!! Finally updated! Whew! I'm sorry for the delay... got some holiday frills to take care of... well, it's finally here! Eat up minna! ^____^ 


	12. Chapter 11: Temporary Insanity

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Eleven  
  
BY: Simply Kim  
  
GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding parts... the Crashers too. ^_^;  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
NOTES: A form of enlightenment. if you could ever call this chapter that! Oh, yeah, btw, again, this thing: (~*~), heralds Crawford's visions and recollections! Happy New Year minna!  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 11: Temporary Insanity  
  
* * *  
  
/This is getting old. / Ran sighed, turning a weary eye towards his maestro.  
  
/If I hear this guy tell me that I should do voice lessons and improve the quality of my singing one more time, I'm going to kill him... Shi-ne screams and all that! / - Though where he got the idea, he would never know... it just popped in this almost deranged head and just seemed appropriate...  
  
There he was again, standing, his back against the wall as the head maestro yaks about him leaving the past behind and facing a bright future ahead. Then, wonder of wonders, he said Ran should start by singing.  
  
/Why wasn't I surprised? / The redhead mused. /He's been at it for, like, weeks, and I turn it down every time... the weird thing was - he does it again the next day. / He shook his head slightly as if to clear it.  
  
/When will he realize that until I extract whatever it is that has been gnawing inside me, I wouldn't even touch a danged microphone? / Like always, he gave the only answer he had for those types of inquiries.  
  
"No sir, I will not sing."  
  
There was complete silence as, for the umpteenth time, the middle- aged expert regarded him almost sympathetically. /This show of understanding would only last for about... hmm... five more seconds... /  
  
/Then he will say... /  
  
"How long are you going to keep up with this?" There was definite fatigue tangled with that voice.  
  
Ran's answer?  
  
He just walked out the blasted door.  
  
/This is getting old. /  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
He felt as if he was going to be sick.  
  
His head was pounding hard enough for him to think that ten gigantic elephants were dancing the funky chicken inside his brain.  
  
Heh, the thought, no matter how ridiculous it was, was not comforting.  
  
He wanted to die from the pain - someone just shoot his head and get the whole fucking thing over with!  
  
However, he knew that his wish would never be granted - people around here are too weak for their own good... he shook his head. He must be delirious - since when had he ever thought that? Hn. Maybe his mind was unstable after all...  
  
As if in violent response, his head began its agonizing ticking again, drowning out almost all his thoughts as all of his senses remained fixated on one sensation - pain. He murmured soothingly and apologetically to whatever living particle was in his brain for all the indignity he imposed on it...  
  
Great, now he was starting to believe in supernatural beings trapped in his grey mass. Great, just great.  
  
Groaning, he got up, and strode purposefully towards his bathroom door. No use in locking himself up inside his room till doomsday just because of a simple headache... even if the headache was driving him insane. He briefly wondered how in heavens name would he drive his car to his designated building with his vision wavering as if everything was oil- slicked.  
  
He reached for the shower nozzle turned it, letting the cold, merciless spray spatter onto him in huge uncontrollable rivulets. The cold water did nothing for his desperate plight, but it did wonders for his bodily functions. He actually felt his blood channel through his vein, finally in working order, and to his consternation - increasing the drumming in his brain.  
  
It was the feel of something heavy draped on his drenched body that prompted him to finally open his eyes and register the fact that he was taking his morning shower with his clothes on. Great, another reason for the creepy dorm laundry collector to complain about his job. Hn, as if the guy was needed there anyway. He was often sorely tempted to just shut up the guy by landing an upper cut on the sagging double chin. However, wonder of wonders, he managed to control himself and just tune out the unwanted prattle.  
  
Groaning, he peeled the clothes off his body, needles sticking inside his brain more and more in every simple action. He needed to go to the clinic - fast.  
  
CLINIC.  
  
There was something that made him wary of such places. He did not like it. It was as if a memory was unfurling, and yet he had no recollection as of why he felt that way... It was laughable, the way he was shrinking away from the place... but he couldn't help it... it was involuntary action.  
  
Weird.  
  
Freaky.  
  
He shook his head, the insides seeming to shake and rattle. He swore that his brain was by now oozing out of its protective membrane.  
  
EWW.  
  
Gross.  
  
He turned the nozzle away from him and reached for the liquid soap that Schuldig gave on his recent birthday celebration. It calmed his pain somehow. The scent of wild apricots were soothing his sense, driving him up into the sky with its potent pseudo-hallucinatory power.  
  
Sometimes, Schuldig makes sense.  
  
The German had claimed before that it was soothing, calming and, well, /arousing/. Hell, he did not know about the arousing part, but it was sure doing its best in soothing and calming him down. Sighing, he rubbed the thick liquid onto the palms of his hands and began applying it on his body. The bubbly feel of the suds were making him feel a bit high - that, coupled with the scent... it was doing wonders.  
  
His hands were by then caressing his abdomen, feeling every bit of muscle flex in his hands, the suds forming a titillating vision as his suffering mind conjured up a picture of smooth pale fragile-looking hands replacing his own, rubbing down... down... down...  
  
Okay, he was going to stop.  
  
He shook his head, mentally kicking his idiotic self as he pushed the picture away.  
  
Breathing hard, he turned the nozzle towards hi again, letting the icy spray drown his perverted thoughts and his case of... something resembling morning wood.  
  
He really needed help - and fast.  
  
It took him twenty more minutes to finally finish his shower. He easily wrapped a towel around his waist as he padded towards his room, his feet encased in ridiculously cute bunny slippers Schuldig gave him for his birthday the other year. The guy sure has a knack for giving damned weird gifts.  
  
Sighing, he opened his huge walk-in closet and surveyed the contents through his pain-riddled brain. It was still contracting, making his eyes water and his sight a bit blurry.  
  
"Oi, Crawfie, you don't look too well."  
  
The unexpected voice made him jump in surprise. He turned and glared at the intruder. "Schuldig, for the love of God, knock first before stalking in will you?"  
  
"Oi, don't freak out on me, I did knock - you're just out of it. Good thing I brought you back." Schuldig gave him a tired grin.  
  
"I locked the doors - how ever did you get in?" Crawford was surprised. He was sure that he had bolted his door closed. What was happening?  
  
"Uh, don't get mad at me, alright? Uh, actually, I don't remember how I got in. I was a bit weirded out when I was first knocking at your blasted door and then in the blink of an eye, I'm already inside. Weird. Are you sure this place is not haunted, huh, Brad?"  
  
Crawford blinked. He honestly did not know what to think of what his friend had just said. Weird. It was definitely weird. It didn't look like a poor excuse for barging in, but by the confused and tired look in the other's eyes, he wasn't so sure that he should doubt his words.  
  
He took a full-sleeved grey shirt from its moorings and slipped it on, deliberating.  
  
What was happening?  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
/"Aya keep on running! Don't stop until I tell you to!"/  
  
/"Demo, Ran-niichan! I cannot hold on anymore!"/  
  
  
  
Terror was evident... my heart beats erratically...  
  
  
  
/"We're going to make it, please, try to keep up - if we don't do this, they'll get us for sure!"/  
  
  
  
Hope... shining like the sun... bright... captivating...  
  
  
  
/"Niichan... *pant* my heart... Itai..."/  
  
/"Aya!"/  
  
  
  
Black... the color of death... heaping sorrow into the deprived and torn heart... then that hope again... a spark of light amidst the darkness...  
  
  
  
/It was too late. /  
  
A gunshot...  
  
  
  
/"Aya..."/  
  
  
  
A smoking gun barrel... a glint of light reflecting, a metallic color against the darkness of midnight...  
  
  
  
/"Ah, Fujimiya Ran - just like your cowardly father. Always running..."/  
  
  
  
A hateful jeer... A familiar hateful face... cold steel against my forehead...  
  
  
  
/"KISAMA! Takatori Reiji - DIE!"/  
  
  
  
But then I looked up... I see unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar features...  
  
Where have I seen him before?  
  
A smoking gun... a glint of something shiny reflecting a car's headlights...  
  
Familiar...  
  
Eyes...  
  
Vivid golden brown eyes shining manically in the dark...  
  
Familiar... another one working for the despicable Underworld God...  
  
Vivid golden brown eyes...  
  
Familiar...  
  
  
  
/"They say you have a heavenly voice, Ran. They say it's as close to heaven as you look. I wonder if that is true..."/  
  
I cannot see anything but him... him who ended my sister's life... him whom I saw burn my home using his bare hands...  
  
Vivid golden brown eyes...  
  
Familiar...  
  
I closed my eyes, finally away from the addicting orbs that show something worth more than bloodlust... emotions swirling around him in diverse display of color...  
  
Then the green of desire... I can see it even behind my lids...  
  
A curse that brought nothing but pain...  
  
A curse...  
  
I feel a pudgy hand being insinuated inside my bloody clothes.  
  
  
  
/"Maybe you should sing for me before bedtime."/  
  
  
  
Then came the ugly welt of black... the color of death... crossing paths with the green...  
  
Black...  
  
Vivid golden brown eyes screaming for something I cannot name...  
  
Familiar...  
  
Familiar...  
  
Terror was evident... my heart beats erratically...  
  
Yet all I could see are the golden brown orbs...  
  
Set in a masculine face...  
  
All I could see... is him.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Ran shot up from bed - sweat running down his body in inundation. The dream... the colors... what do they mean? He looked up at the high ceiling.  
  
"I don't understand..." He murmured, his brow furrowing. His dreams... what do they mean? What are they? "I don't understand..."  
  
  
  
/All you have to do is believe. /  
  
  
  
He closed his eyes, plopping back down on the soft mattress of his four-poster bed. "Crawford-san."  
  
  
  
/Vivid golden brown eyes.../  
  
/"Am not!" Crawford scowled, his golden brown eyes shooting darts of irritation at the Irishman. /  
  
At the unbidden memory, his eyes snapped open mouth gaping in absolute shock. Crawford? Crawford of all people?  
  
His heartbeat was accelerating. It cannot be... after all, the American wasn't the only one with golden brown orbs in the world...  
  
But what if...  
  
He closed his eyes again, calming his breathing as his mind conjured the image of Crawford laughing.  
  
Crawford smiling softly down at him.  
  
Crawford glaring at Farfarello and Schuldig.  
  
Crawford sneezing when he had his infamous cold.  
  
Crawford being dragged almost breathlessly behind as they ran from Ken's future wrath.  
  
Crawford holding him, his arms comforting, and his golden brown eyes searching his, giving him encouragement...  
  
Those arms... so warm...  
  
Those beautiful golden brown eyes so deep and filled with emotion that one cannot resist but succumb to the addictive sight...  
  
Those beautiful golden brown eyes...  
  
It cannot be.  
  
He was sure of it.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"Ahh! It's finished!"  
  
The triumphant crow wasn't lost in Farfarello. Schuldig finally finished his project. "Great!" He called out teasingly from the thick walls of the bedroom. "Now I can finally have my sleep! Your racket is driving me nuts!"  
  
"HAH! Suffer then, I don't care how much you suffer, you freak!" Came the scathing retort.  
  
Freak.  
  
Such a small word, and yet, his soul was resenting being called that... and his mind... his mind...  
  
His mind was accepting it.  
  
Shaking his head free of the confusing thoughts. Slowly, he got up from Schuldig's bed and padded barefoot towards the music room where his friends were.  
  
Almost mechanically, he plopped down a soft couch covered with buttery leather that served as the German's midday nap bed, effectively pushing the guy towards the other end.  
  
"OW!" Came a whisper of pain from his friend.  
  
He immediately glanced at Schuldig, his eyes alert and body tense. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"  
  
Schuldig was pointing at something...  
  
Crawford's awed voice entered his field of hearing. He glanced down at his bare feet in disbelief.  
  
"You're foot is bleeding..."  
  
True enough, crimson rivers were staining the midnight blue carpet. He lifted his injured foot up and surveyed the wound. Schuldig was handing him a green towel, and he gratefully accepted it, pressing down into the huge gaping cut.  
  
"You stepped on something sharp... a knife blade from the looks of it..." Crawford murmured, obviously amazed. "It's cut deep, we have to get it stitched."  
  
"Found the knife!" The German yelled from the bedroom's front door. "Jesus, where did this HUGE thing come from?" He yelped as he hefted the heavy blade from the floor.  
  
Farfarello turned his golden gaze on his best friend, squinting at the knife being held up. They looked familiar, but he swore he did not possess anything like that. Neither does Schuldig, nor Crawford. He shivered involuntarily.  
  
"Does it hurt much?" The American was pressing another clean towel on the wound with one hand, his other holding a threaded needle. It took all of Farfarello's courage not to wince.  
  
The Irishman shook his head. No, he did not feel any kind of pain. It was surprising though... he couldn't understand why he wasn't feeling any pain at the moment. Hell, he did not even feel himself cut by the damned thing!  
  
It was eerie.  
  
What was happening to him?  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Finally updated! Sorry it took so long, heh-heh... got lost somewhere in the plotline I planned before actually writing this piece. Well folks, enjoy! Reviews are very much welcome! ^____^ 


	13. Chapter 12: Midnight Conversations

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Twelve  
  
BY: Simply Kim  
  
GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding parts... the Crashers too. ^_^;  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
NOTES: A form of enlightenment. if you could ever call this chapter that! Oh, yeah, btw, again, this thing: (~*~), heralds Crawford's visions and recollections!  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER 12: Midnight Conversations  
  
  
  
Alone...  
  
He felt so alone...  
  
Here he was, in a padded cell, imprisoned like a criminal.  
  
He did not even do anything.  
  
They wanted something from him... something he couldn't quite name. He remembered having visions... those of the future. He had seen this before... His own family would sell him to these people who treated him like dirt...  
  
Sold.  
  
It was agonizing even to think about. Sold by his family at the age of fourteen... kept in prison by the people who bought him... kept alive for six months on crusted bread and water...  
  
Pure hell.  
  
He wondered if there were people unluckier than he was...  
  
"I am." A small lilting voice sounded from the cell across his. He looked up in surprise, seeing another boy a bit younger than he was, sporting scraggly and unkempt auburn hair and pain-filled Jade eyes.  
  
"You are?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"I'm an orphan!" The boy gave him a weak gap-toothed grin. "Raised by them whores in downtown Berlin... nabbed me... verdammt, hate them... I can hear their evil voices..."  
  
"Telepath?" He asked, amazed.  
  
The boy nodded. "Sounds something like that..." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Ja. I have a friend with me... and they took him too... right Jei?"  
  
The other boy in the same cell as the other grunted in reply. "Uh, don't worry about him, he's just shy!"  
  
Laughter.  
  
"By the way, my name's Engel!"  
  
"Engel?"  
  
"Ja, they gave me that name, though why they did, I would never know."  
  
"Ah." He smiled. "I'm glad that they did. It suits you."  
  
"It does." Came a low rumbling agreement from the blonde boy sitting with his back against the wall. Jei.  
  
"See? Even he agrees with me." He grinned.  
  
"Oh, ehehe..." The redhead smiled, obviously flattered. "Well, what about you? What's your name?"  
  
"Me? Oh, I'm... I'm Brad... Brad Crawford... pleased to meet you..."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Crawford shot up from his bed at the sudden implication of what he had just seen in his mind. Memories... no doubt that all he was seeing... all that he had dreamt of these past few nights... they were all memories...  
  
"But Engel... Jei...?" He murmured. "I've met them before? Why? When? Where's that creepy place?" He curled into a pain-filled human ball and rocked in an effort to console himself. "Why can't I remember everything?"  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Schuldig opened his eyes slowly. "No fucking way." He swore, getting up and searching his drawer for a smoke. Finding none, he walked towards the window and opened them wide, causing the light breeze to filter in.  
  
"There's no fucking way that I've met them before... I'm not even an orphan!"  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Farfarello played with the blender, the incessant whirring sound somehow calming him down.  
  
"Must not think of it... must not think of it... must not think of it..."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"Sir... are we going to collect our experiments now?"  
  
Light reflected eerily on the thick-lensed glasses the scientist's superior wore.  
  
"Ah... not yet... just a few more days... I'm glad that everything's going according to plan."  
  
"Yes sir. As far as we can see, they're responding to everything the right way."  
  
"Test Number 001 finally regained much of his memories back as expected the moment his power connected with that of the target." The scientist agreed, fiddling with the folder he held in his hands. "The other two, Test Numbers 004 and 005 are about top regain theirs."  
  
"And what would follow would probably be the best of all..."  
  
Manic eyes glowed under the dim lights.  
  
"The target would finally be eliminated... he's not going to escape my wrath this time."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"Omi..."  
  
"Hush now, I'm here..."  
  
"I don't feel so good..."  
  
"Shh... Don't talk, just rest..."  
  
"I feel like I'm burning up... I... *gasp* I..."  
  
"Hush now... I'm going to take care of you, alright? I'm going to make all the pain in your head go away..."  
  
Pain-filled chocolate browns met watery blue.  
  
/I'm glad you're here Omi-chan. /  
  
"Don't leave me alone Omi... Onegai..."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Crawford was trudging wearily along the secluded grassy area leading to his sanctuary. He wanted some semblance of peace... He wanted something to keep his mind and body at ease...  
  
Or else he'll go insane.  
  
So many memories... memories that did not have the space in his overworked brain. His vital organ seemed as if it would shatter in a million pieces. He sighed, shaking his weary head, looking up in nervous anticipation as he heard a small sound behind the rundown wall he was about to scale.  
  
Suddenly, a thick film of midnight blue covered everything, shadows playing with mocking enthusiasm, countless voices ringing amidst the bland nature of his surroundings. The trees were gone, the grassland transformed into an area of inky matter. Crawford felt as if he was floating. He couldn't feel the ground he was supposed to be standing on. His eyes were watering a little at the sudden fragrance emanating from a certain area in the vast darkness.  
  
There was a glimpse of burning white light above him. He straightened out his arms, trying to reach for whatever it was... all to no avail. He was simply too far from the figment of light.  
  
He surveyed his surroundings, his mind processing what was happening at that moment. He knew it would be impossible to think that it was all a product of witchcraft... however, he could not deny that everything surrounding him then seemed coated with a thing dusting of magic.  
  
Without warning, his eyesight blurred heavily, the golden brown orbs blanking for a moment. He couldn't see anything... couldn't see anything but the light above him. From the light came down a creature so majestic, he couldn't bear even to get close to it. However, even before he had a chance to get away, the creature saw him, unearthly eyes meeting his. Gem- like eyes... the same ones Ran possessed.  
  
Ran.  
  
He was not dreaming...  
  
The creature was the spitting image of... Ran!  
  
He wanted to call him, however, all words left his mouth as he saw Ran's eyes flutter close. Tears, quiet as they usually came, now flooded the entire area, flowing from the sudden crack in the darkness... a parody of a human face clothed in the shadows... along with gem-like orbs peeking from half-closed incisions. The redhead's body was now curled into a fetal position, deathlike expression on his face, and pale skin aglow... he seemed too vulnerable to touch... too fragile to approach...  
  
What was happening? He could not understand everything around him... where was he? He was supposed to be in his sanctuary!  
  
He tried to break away from the shadowy tendrils that wound around his ankles, trying to draw him into their murky depths.  
  
A sob...  
  
A sob that came from a place he couldn't even decipher where... a sob that wrenched away his heart and broke it into millions of tiny fragments... a sob that claimed to be...  
  
  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
  
  
/The presence of tears spurred Crawford into action.  
  
His heart pounded as he pulled him into his arms. His hands soothed the younger boy, rubbing his back gently, massaging one-handedly at the knots on the fragile shoulders.  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
/He must have had an unhappy life. / Crawford mused, feeling tears prickling his own closed eyelids. His heart felt as if it was being clamped by an iron vise.  
  
Tears sopped the front of his shirt, and he knew it would look like hell before he even washed it, but he did not care. All he cared about was making Ran's pain disappear. What could he do?  
  
He held him tighter, murmuring endearments that he knew would somehow help calm the helpless boy. Ran clutched his thin shirt, crumpling it beyond repair. The tightening of the fingers' hold tightened the vise around his heart at the same rate.  
  
/Ran... what had happened to you before? Why do you break down now? Why? /  
  
He let out a shuddering sigh, pushing Ran a small distance away from him. "Ran... Shh... It's alright... everything's gonna be fine."  
  
"Demo... demo... Watashi wa..."  
  
Crawford had absolutely no clue as to what Ran was saying. All he knew was that the words were laced with a peculiar sense of desperation and utter loneliness that made him want to protect him from everything.  
  
Gently, he wiped the tears away with his slender fingers and smiled reassuringly.  
  
"It's alright." He whispered tenderly, ghosting a touch on a cold cheek before turning towards the still-starry sky. /  
  
END FLASHBACK  
  
  
  
  
  
His eyes widened at the memory of that night...  
  
The sobs were of the same tone... the same level of sadness... the same tempo...  
  
His eyes searched the glowing figure that threatened to break.  
  
Ran.  
  
The tears that flowed from the amethyst eyes were now dripping with abandon... this time, the moisture was coupled with the presence of gut- wrenching sobs that burned in his psyche... he had heard that before... he swore that he had heard that before...  
  
Even before he first saw and heard ran in their Sanctuary....  
  
That night...  
  
That night...  
  
His mind began its series of assaulting pain... pain that throbbed, wanting to drive him to bash himself with a hammer just to make it go away and leave him in peace...  
  
Ran...  
  
Ran...  
  
Crawford tried to move his feet and discovered that the shadows that eagerly wrapped around him were gone. The shadows were still prominent, but the light around ran glowed brighter... a depressing off-white hue, bordering on a lighter shade of gray, shimmering as if pure silver...  
  
Ran...  
  
He stumbled towards him, his hand reached out to touch him... touch that dear pale face and try to wake him up, taking him away from this place of sorrow...  
  
Ran...  
  
Crawford knelt down before the redhead, his features light and soft... his eyes crinkling at the corners as an endearing smile present upon his lips...  
  
"Ran... can you here me... Ran?"  
  
There was no response from the boy. His smile vanished.  
  
His fingertips finally touched a warm cheek. "Ran... wake up..."  
  
Suddenly, the darkness fell apart. Chunks of midnight fell as if shattered glass, leaving the green environment that he was familiar of. Crawford found himself kneeling on a patch of slithery grass, touching Ran... and the latter was lying almost immobile on the ground, his head pillowed by a small rock. Immobile... immobile except for the fluttering of the lids, as if wanting to wake up, but did not have the will to...  
  
He shifted the younger man's body, that he cradled him, his red-haired head relaxing on his lap.  
  
Crawford could not believe it.  
  
/So... it was Ran... he was the one who did everything... he was the one.../  
  
The gloomy world disappeared the moment Ran was stirred into consciousness...  
  
/he made everything up... How ever did he do it? Could it be that he's the same as... as.../  
  
The pounding inside his skull intensified, his eyes quirking at the feeling of pain. However, as painful as it might be, it was instantaneously forgotten as Ran's hands moved to grasp the front of his shirt.  
  
A smile once again crossed his lips as the redhead opened his amazing eyes.  
  
Ran blinked, his lids a bit swollen from the tears he shed unconsciously, probably hours before.  
  
"Ran."  
  
Amethyst eyes finally focused, and pale cheeks turned crimson as the sight of the American greeted his return to the living world.  
  
"C-Crawford...san..."  
  
"Are you alright?" Crawford's brow furrowed as a panicked look entered Ran's eyes.  
  
"I-I'm fine... A-A... I mean... Umm... What am I doing here?" The last word came almost in a shout as an internal battle was waged. Will he try to get away from the comforting hold, or will it be better if he stays?  
  
"You tell me." Crawford's eyes glittered in amusement, the pain he was experiencing appearing as dim glimmer swimming in pools of golden browns. "I saw you here... well... not quite here..."  
  
"I don't understand Crawford-san..." The Japanese youth said incredulously. "I was sleeping in my bed a while ago... I was..."  
  
A dark head swished from side to side. "No, I saw you... in another world, I guess... the place was so dark..." His brow furrowed as he peered at him. "What's happening, Ran?"  
  
There was fear in the sudden stiffening of the redhead's body. He averted his eyes. "I don't know what you're saying, Crawford-san."  
  
His voice was so quiet that he might have not heard it if not for his sharp ears.  
  
"Tell me the truth. What was that? Why was it that when you woke up, the images disappeared?" The American's resolve was strong. He must know what the hell was that that happened! A painful thud awarded his thoughts.  
  
He winced.  
  
Ran, seeing him, inched carefully away, sitting up quickly when he disentangled his body from strong arms, mistaking the expression as that of incredulity and disgust.  
  
"I'm sorry." He started. "I should have told you sooner... but I did not know how..."  
  
"Ran..."  
  
The redhead held up a hand to stop his words. "No, Crawford-san... should no - Iya - you MUST know..." he took a deep breath and found the courage to stare into the American's eyes.  
  
"I'm not normal... I'm..."  
  
Ran sighed, turning away from him.  
  
"I've learned about this ability a year before my family died..." He gazed at the still water of the pond, trying hard not to let the past ache catch up with him again. "I'm not normal..."  
  
"I'm a Hybrid."  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
A/N: *Pants from exertion* Ah, finally finished this chapter! ^____^ Sorry again for the delay (I seem to be saying that A LOT... oh well... *sighs*) I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm hoping for more support guys! Thanks a lot for the past reviews and the future too (in advance! ^____^) Reviews, reviews! ^___^ 


	14. Chapter 13: Meisterwerk Der Schuld

TITLE: Song of the Gentle Wind  
  
CHAPTER: Thirteen  
  
BY: Simply Kim  
  
GENRE: Yaoi (Angst/Humor)  
  
  
  
CAST: The guys from Weiß and Schwarz. who else? ^_^ (And, Ehehe... yeah, I forgot to mention in the preceding parts... the Crashers too. ^_^;  
  
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to do not belong to me. ^_^  
  
NOTES: A form of enlightenment. if you could ever call this chapter that! Oh, yeah, btw, again, this thing: (~*~), heralds Crawford's visions!  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
CHAPTER 13: Meisterwerk Der Schuld  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Oi, you're doing it wrong idiot!"  
  
"NANI? If I'm doing it wrong, then why do you even insist I do this, baka gaijin?"  
  
"Because you're the only one good at doing that idiot!"  
  
"Who are you calling idiot?"  
  
"You!"  
  
"NANI?"  
  
"I thought you're only an idiot... don't tell me you're deaf now!"  
  
"Oi, no fighting! You'll ruin the stage!"  
  
"Schu, stop doing that... you're going to ruin your own show if Youji's to quit."  
  
"Warum ist es immer ich(?" The German protested, pouting. "It's his fault!"  
  
Youji glared balefully at him. "Why the heck is it my fault? You're the one who started screaming your guts out just to tell me what I did wrong!" He huffed. "You never gave me enough instructions, and then you screamed like a fucking banshee saying that I'm not doing my job right!"  
  
"You AREN'T doing it right idiot!" Schuldig fired back, glaring at him with enough animosity to last the entire crew for a lifetime. "And I DID give you enough instructions - you just did not listen!"  
  
"I was -"  
  
"Okay guys, time out!" Farfarello yelled above the overpowering din.  
  
Then descended silence.  
  
Farfarello sighed, his breath coming out as a mushroom-like gush of air from his parted lips, the cloud materializing due to his exposure to the air-conditioning unit. The machine was turned at full power. "We're not going to get these preparations right of both of you are insisting on insulting each other day in and day out. I've got enough of this for three straight days... don't you have anything better to do that grapple with and indict each other?" He closed his eyes as something resembling peace crashed through the entire workforce. Even with them closed, he could practically see the rest of the crew's relieved faces at the prospect of having a serene workplace to hone. He opened his eyes and gazed sternly at the formerly warring people.  
  
"Thank God..." Nagi sighed with enough emphasis to make the Irishman turn his golden gaze on him. His face showing a bit more color than the last Farfarello had seen it. He heard the boy got sick, and he was glad that he seemed okay now. "Peace at last..."  
  
"Amen to that, Nagi-kun..." Omi answered, going back to where he left off with the curtains.  
  
There was a murmur of agreement as they went back to working on the stage.  
  
"Uh, sorry, guys." Schuldig murmured, his cheeks stained slightly in crimson. "I was just worried about this whole show thing, and well, I blew off..."  
  
"Uh, sorry too..." Youji said, an apologetic smile on his lips. "I was just tired... I guess... I've been working hard these past few days and, well, the load seems to be getting the best of me and I blow at the slightest form of irritation... Sorry Schuldig..."  
  
"Yeah... you've been working hard these past few days... and you're doing a great job..." The German walked over to where the top of the curtains met the ceiling, surveying the pulley where the rope was supposed to slide into. "You were trying to do a great job after all..."  
  
Youji immediately bristled. "What do you mean by that?" His eyes narrowed, trying to gauge if he was just dealt an insult.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry..." the redhead gave him a nauseatingly saccharine smile. "Did I offend you? I mean, this is not working well... and I thought it must have taken a dunce to have this all figured out and then do it sloppily... Oh... who the heck did this anyway?"  
  
Blond eyebrows met directly on top of a high nose. "I did." He growled irritably. "You have any problem with that?"  
  
"Oh my..." The German said in mock surprise. "Why Youji, I never thought you're capable of doing something so... mediocre."  
  
"Oi, it wasn't a mediocre work you nosy gaijin!" Ken butted in, defending Youji. "And he had worked hard for that too! It isn't easy to climb the high ladder multiple times and get a hernia from reaching behind too often!"  
  
Schuldig gave him an amused smile. "Ooh, defensive much?" He grinned slyly.  
  
Ken immediately turned a bright shade of red. "Oi..."  
  
"Leave Ken out of this." Youji huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I worked hard for that, so I get to defend my work, not him."  
  
"I told you, you were doing things wrong, idiot..."  
  
Emerald eyes narrowed. "No, I did not... I worked under poor information... who wouldn't make a mistake?"  
  
"I gave enough info about your job!" Schuldig argued, animosity back on his face.  
  
"Yeah right." The Japanese musician snorted. "Who's the idiot now?"  
  
It was clear that trouble was beginning to brew, and the rest of the people working slunk back, retreating, unwilling to be a part of the madness that they surely knew would soon ensue.  
  
Farfarello shook his head, groaning. Great. Another fight. He began counting in his head. Knowing Schuldig, retaliation would be about...  
  
3...  
  
2...  
  
1...  
  
0...  
  
"I am NOT an idiot!"  
  
Giving the others a tired look, he shrugged helplessly and proceeded on gluing the artificial flowers together.  
  
This was definitely a BAD day...  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"C-Crawford...san..."  
  
"Are you alright?" Crawford's brow furrowed as a panicked look entered Ran's eyes.  
  
"I-I'm fine... A-A... I mean... Umm... What am I doing here?" The last word came almost in a shout as an internal battle was waged. Will he try to get away from the comforting hold, or will it be better if he stays?  
  
"You tell me." Crawford's eyes glittered in amusement, the pain he was experiencing appearing as dim glimmer swimming in pools of golden browns. "I saw you here... well... not quite here..."  
  
"I don't understand Crawford-san..." The Japanese youth said incredulously. "I was sleeping in my bed a while ago... I was..."  
  
A dark head swished from side to side. "No, I saw you... in another world, I guess... the place was so dark..." His brow furrowed as he peered at him. "What's happening, Ran?"  
  
There was fear in the sudden stiffening of the redhead's body. He averted his eyes. "I don't know what you're saying, Crawford-san."  
  
His voice was so quiet that he might have not heard it if not for his sharp ears.  
  
"Tell me the truth. What was that? Why was it that when you woke up, the images disappeared?" The American's resolve was strong. He must know what the hell was that that happened! A painful thud awarded his thoughts.  
  
He winced.  
  
Ran, seeing him, inched carefully away, sitting up quickly when he disentangled his body from strong arms, mistaking the expression as that of incredulity and disgust.  
  
"I'm sorry." He started. "I should have told you sooner... but I did not know how..."  
  
"Ran..."  
  
The redhead held up a hand to stop his words. "No, Crawford-san... should know - Iya - you MUST know..." he took a deep breath and found the courage to stare into the American's eyes.  
  
"I'm not normal... I'm..."  
  
Ran sighed, turning away from him.  
  
"I've learned about this ability a year before my family died..." He gazed at the still water of the pond, trying hard not to let the past ache catch up with him again. "I'm not normal..."  
  
"I'm a Hybrid."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Uh... can you please run that by me again?" Crawford's eyes were filled with confusion. "I didn't quite understand that..."  
  
"I'm a Hybrid." Ran repeated, his face falling as he saw the shocked look that followed the confusion. "I can do lots of things that normal people don't do..."  
  
"I have dreams... and those dreams paint even the conscious world. I can change many things... but excessive use would be my death, so I don't use my talent much... Everything that I set my mind on will come true as I continue sleeping ad dreaming them... I can link into people's minds too... a telepath, I guess..."  
  
"I've got lots of talents. I can create snow... I can destroy anything... but it would mean my death if I exceed the quota my body gives me... The best is the gift of song." Ran sighed, turning away. "I know it sounds really cheesy, but... It's true. When I sing a song, I dream. Things begin painting themselves into existence... and every person who hears me will feel and see them too if I let them. That's one of the reasons why I don't want to... sing anymore... That reason... but not that alone..."  
  
Silence.  
  
Confused by the reigning silence, Ran looked up, his amethyst eyes questioning, and quite alarmed as he surveyed his companion's state.  
  
Crawford seemed to be lost. His eyes looked blank... as if he was in a trance...  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"We spotted the Link sir!"  
  
"Very well, get him."  
  
* * *  
  
Schuldig was rubbing his hand over his bandaged arm.  
  
He winced.  
  
Lesson number one...  
  
Never EVER cross Kudou Youji.  
  
Lesson number two...  
  
Never EVER let Jei, a.k.a. Farfarello clean his wounds for him. He cleans not just the skin... he literally takes away more of the blood INSIDE, and not the splatters outside.  
  
He sighed as he sauntered up to the gates of his dorm. It was a bit creepy though... no one was in sight, and it was only two in the afternoon...  
  
Strange.  
  
Suddenly, a noise issued from behind him. Thinking it was Kudou who followed him just to rub in the fact that he won their argument, he rolled his eyes and sighed in fatigue. "Look, Youji, I did not lose, alright? I just let you wind because -"  
  
His eyes widened as an unfamiliar, yet familiar face greeted his line of sight.  
  
A sudden pain on the back of his head...  
  
And everything went black.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
"I'm a Hybrid."  
  
It was the mention of that word again that sent him back to unwanted memories...  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
  
  
"You have to do it."  
  
"I - I can't... please, anything but that..."  
  
"You have no choice. It's either you do it, or I make a choice for you."  
  
"But - but, sir... why?"  
  
"He's essential to my plans. That's all you need to know."  
  
Crawford could not even decipher what the reason was. Essential to his plans? Someone so young is THAT essential?  
  
"Think carefully, Bradley, boy. There are many things you have to consider first before going against what I tell you to."  
  
Golden browns widened to the point of popping, and a bead of salty sweat slid down his temple. /He wouldn't.../  
  
However, as he saw the determined and frighteningly bloodthirsty look in those beady eyes, he knew the man WOULD do whatever he wanted... /He would. / He thought miserably. /But why me? Why not a freelance assassin to do the job? Is it because of availability? Is it because of the fact that I am the only one capable of doing the dirty job? Or is it because it would mean more costs to hire a professional killer? /  
  
Thoughts were whirring around his head, and he clutched at it in pain and indecision. /Engel... Jei.../ They would surely die if he doesn't do this... the toddler in the Intensive Care Unit of the laboratory who they said defied the laws of Physics whenever his talent was awakened... Him, Engel and Jei... they would all die... no, he couldn't let that happen... They had been his family for quite some time now... and they mean everything to him... he wouldn't let them die...  
  
With a defiant tingling feeling running up and down his spine, he straightened up and gazed with renewed determination. /I will not let them die... I will most definitely not! / He cringed as he saw the fleeting triumph in those evil eyes.  
  
He held out his hand.  
  
And a heavy metallic object weighed it down.  
  
There was no turning back.  
  
* * *  
  
"Don't stop until I tell you to!"  
  
"I cannot hold on anymore!"  
  
"We're going to make it... if we don't do this, they'll get us for sure!"  
  
"Niichan... *pant* my heart... Itai..."  
  
"Aya!"  
  
His feet ached, but he knew he must go on... too many lives depended on his actions... he hoped for a successful mission... however, he couldn't shake off the feeling of sorrow for the young boy he and the other bodyguards were chasing. Their footsteps rang on the hard pavement. The sound, Crawford knew, would be the basis of the redoubled efforts the siblings were making to escape. The two within his range, he raised the gun and squinted a bit, concentrating, trying to keep his hands steady as he prepared for his first kill. One was already down, and the two figures merged into one, their pace much slower as the taller finally collapsed. The boy couldn't go on with his obviously injured sister in tow.  
  
They were easy target.  
  
He squinted again, aiming for a curved body.  
  
Concentrate.  
  
No fears, no sympathy.  
  
No nothing.  
  
Sweat started dripping down his temples, saturating the collar of his shirt as they ran down his strong neck.  
  
It was too late.  
  
His eyes dilated, Crawford felt the kick of the weapon he held in his hand.  
  
There was the reverberating scream of a loaded gun matching with an agonized shriek of a person in extreme pain.  
  
His talent kicked in as the first shot was made. His vision pained a horrific picture. The boy's eyes were blank. He could see the boy even in dim light. There was the steady flow of warm blood gushing down his pale arms.  
  
He heard the boy murmur something unintelligible.  
  
Crawford saw his captor make his way toward the distraught being.  
  
A pudgy hand slid the steel barrel of the gun against the new captive's forehead; and the boy slowly looked up at the gun pointed smack between his eyes.  
  
His captor and long time employer was saying something... obviously sneering at the boy with newfound interest. Something about what he had heard happened many times for the past week... Poor girl... there was a name... something that sounded much like the Japanese word "AYA"... and he instantly knew that his thoughts were right. The raped girl... the sick and raped girl...  
  
The boy's sister...  
  
The boy's sister who he had just killed...  
  
His eyes glistened with unwanted tears.  
  
Crawford turned his eyes towards where the boy was situated. He was about to be held captive... He instantly knew. And then their eyes met in the dark.  
  
Pain-filled amethysts dancing with freely flowing tears.  
  
They would have been beautiful if they weren't so... painfully dead.  
  
Painfully dead with nothing but utter loss and exhaustion for company.  
  
"KISAMA!" The boy growled as he somehow focused on something said cruelly to him, dropping the lifeless body of his sister and lunging angrily at the gloating murderer. "... DIE!" A leather belt materialized from nowhere and looped around the boy's neck, choking him as it was pulled back.  
  
He was right - again.  
  
Now the boy was now officially a captive.  
  
His talent had proved itself again.  
  
A shiver ran down the young American's spine as the elder man laughed manically, his eyes glinting with pure evil...  
  
Takatori.  
  
Takatori Reiji.  
  
Desperation...  
  
There was desperation in the air... he could feel it...  
  
His eyes strayed once again to the boy... and discovered that the amethyst eyes were trained at him... accusing... murderous... and then... they morphed into the pain-filled orbs he had just seen earlier...  
  
He couldn't understand what he was feeling...  
  
Compassion?  
  
Pain?  
  
"Poor boy." One guard hissed to his comrade. "I wonder what would happen to that kid... Takatori-sama has him... I wonder if he would wind up like the others who came before him..."  
  
The others who came before him...  
  
The ones whom he learned before, were under the waters of the unforgiving Pacific...  
  
DEAD.  
  
He closed his eyes as the feeling coursing through his psyche engulfed his senses. The boy had died the moment his sister had died... Crawford made sure of that when he pulled the trigger.  
  
And now there's the discovery that he may have not done the right thing after all...  
  
He was subjecting the boy to death again.  
  
"Why did the boss want such a frail-looking kid?" Another of the guards asked, very much confused.  
  
"Haven't you heard?" The head of the group said noncommittally. He smirked. "The kid's got a lot of potential. He can keep Takatori-sama up in the ranks and would most probably aid him in his quest to rule over every single fucking person in this equally fucking world!"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Didn't you know?" The man continued. "The kid's a HYBRID!"  
  
  
  
END FLASHBACK  
  
  
  
"Crawford-san?"  
  
A tug on his sleeve prompted Crawford to snap into attention. He looked down at the confused gaze given him by gemstone eyes.  
  
At the sight of those eyes, he immediately made the connection.  
  
Amethyst eyes... Pale features... Pain lurking in his soul... Hybrid...  
  
Amethyst eyes.  
  
Hybrid.  
  
His own golden brown irises were transformed into tiny dots as he stared in horror.  
  
Ran!  
  
Ran was the boy who was captured by Takatori Reiji years ago...  
  
And Crawford was the one who killed his last anchor to sanity.  
  
He had killed Ran's sister.  
  
The girl named Aya...  
  
Crawford killed her...  
  
HE killed her.  
  
That feeling again...  
  
There was a horrified tingle in him again... and something else... something that ate his guts...  
  
What is it he was feeling?  
  
Compassion?  
  
Sympathy?  
  
"Are you alright, Crawford-san?" Ran inquired worriedly. "You looked like you're caught doing something wrong... shell-shocked too if I may add..."  
  
Guilt.  
  
GUILT.  
  
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
Suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore.  
  
Ran should not come close to him... If ever he learns the truth, or connects loose ends together, he was sure that he could not bear the consequences.  
  
Ran had been an essential part of his life the moment he set eyes on him... He knew if he was discovered, that he would be hated - fervently...  
  
And he knew he couldn't handle that...  
  
He just couldn't.  
  
Because...  
  
Because...  
  
In a span of such a short time...  
  
He already loved him...  
  
He loves him.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Ran touched Crawford's sleeves again, intent on knowing what was making the other uncomfortable... terribly uncomfortable.  
  
However, a hand slapped his away, and he immediately looked up to blank eyes. He gasped at the transformation, and leaned away on instinct. What was going on?  
  
"Stay away from me."  
  
Ran's eyes widened at such cold words.  
  
"You're a freak. Don't touch me."  
  
With the parting shot, Crawford stood up, brushed his pants, and moved quickly away, his figure shrinking as he walked farther...  
  
Farther away from Ran.  
  
And Ran could not do anything except...  
  
Except to just watch.  
  
Agonizingly.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Schuldig found himself tied to and hanging from a wooden beam in the art gallery of the Conservatorio. He looked wildly around and finally settled on his body. His arms were upraised and roped together, exposing his naked form. His skin was riddled with fresh cuts and bruises, intertwining with the lone whiplash above his groin.  
  
"Ah, you're finally awake!"  
  
Schuldig's eyes slanted in anger.  
  
An elder man saluted with a chubby hand.  
  
Glasses glinted under the gallery's dim lights.  
  
"Missed me?" Came the taunting question.  
  
Schuldig hissed with all the venom he could muster.  
  
"Takatori"  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Farfarello felt something scratch his somewhat disoriented mind.  
  
Suddenly, a vision of Schuldig hanging from a beam in what appeared to be the Conservatorio's art gallery entered his picture memory.  
  
His eyes widened as numerous bruises were presented... and a familiar one just above the groin.  
  
"Schuldig..." He murmured, grabbing his coat quickly, and running as fast as he could with a foot injury, for the gallery who was at the corner from his dormitory. "Schuldig, hold on..."  
  
"Love, I'm coming for you..." He whispered, hoping against hope that he would reach the German before the much-hated person included in the flash of picture killed him.  
  
"Damn you, Takatori!"  
  
* * *  
  
Crawford knew he was being unfair...  
  
But he couldn't help it...  
  
Ran deserves a better company than him...  
  
It's better this way.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"So you finally remembered." Takatori Reiji laughed cruelly, waving a bloody whip back and forth. "I was wondering when you would."  
  
"Stop..." Schuldig wheezed as the whip connected painfully with his pectorals. "Stop, please..."  
  
Cruel laughter.  
  
A cold finger pressed against the end of the old whiplash above his exposed groin.  
  
"Ah, you still have this..."  
  
"No thanks ... to... Ah! You..." Schuldig grated out in pain.  
  
"I enjoyed those days... you were a good whore back then, you know." Takatori murmured quite possessively as he traced the closed welt with the tips of his fingers. "So obedient... mouth so good... body so responsive... ahh... what I wouldn't give to taste you again..."  
  
The hand descended to the thatch of hair that bordered his private areas.  
  
Schuldig could not do anything but whimper in terror as he remembered the "services" he gave the elder man years ago...  
  
He closed his eyes and felt the violating hand fondle him...  
  
"Hands off." A familiar voice suddenly rang out loud and clear in the closed gallery. "NOW."  
  
Slowly, the German opened his eyes.  
  
Standing by the door was a beaten angel, his blond hair gleaming gold, and spattered with blood from a recent kill.  
  
From other people.  
  
There was a crazed look in the golden irises as he glared hatefully at Takatori's gleeful form.  
  
"Ah... wonderful for you to join our discussion." The old man laughed, unfazed by the danger Farfarello presented.  
  
Farfarello lifted his hand.  
  
He was carrying a bloody knife.  
  
"Let him down."  
  
"I won't."  
  
Guards suddenly swarmed the place, cutting off any chance for escape.  
  
"Jei... get out of here..." Schuldig muttered weakly, giving him a wan smile. "I'll take care of this... No need to get jumbled up in this fucking nonsense..."  
  
Farfarello's golden eyes bored into his jade ones.  
  
The Irishman shook his head. "I will die first before I leave you here with HIM." He nodded distastefully towards the antagonist.  
  
It was true that he's not saved yet.  
  
Schuldig was still hanging from the low beam, bound, and he was still completely unclothed... But, he couldn't deny that... for the first time in his life...  
  
He felt safe.  
  
* * *  
  
Why did Crawford shove him away?  
  
Is he really that freaky?  
  
Maybe he was...  
  
He did not deserve anything...  
  
He wanted to die...  
  
He had nothing more to live for...  
  
He's alone once again...  
  
Maybe...  
  
It's better this way...  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
TBC  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the LOOONG delay... ^^;;; Got lotsa schoolwork, so... I haven't got the chance to update for a long while. Well, here's the chapter, and I do hope you enjoyed reading the whole thing! ^_^ Reviews everyone! ^_^  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
( "Why is it always me?" 


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